bring me peace

[Caspa Al-Fateh]

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When the moment came to actually sit down, Caspa found herself hesitant, eyeing the horse warily. Down on the ground, surely the risk of trampling was exacerbated horrendously. But Krystalle didn't show a sign of caring, resuming her former prone position but this time with the leather coat sopping up the worst of the mud. Caspa eventually took a seat, on the very furthest hem from the horse with Krystalle placed between them. Cercatori D'Arte. It was a flowing, unusual name that like the Miracles pack - with Cour equivalent to Court - included hints to guess a little about the nature of this neighbouring pack. Arte surely meant Art, and Art meant crafts, talents and so forth. The meaning of Cercatori, she couldn't begin to guess at. Krystalle repeated the name of Caspa's new pack with an accent that wasn't the way it had been spoken to her, but it wasn't entirely an English accent either. "Your accent is from another language?" Caspa asked inquisitively. It was either that, or just a regional dialect she'd never heard. She followed the pointing finger with her gaze, remembering how difficult it was to stick to a direction when walking through trees, but perhaps one day if an occasion arose she would make the journey to this other pack. "Mine is the other way, towards the sea. Lots of coastline, and there are old human settlements. I live in the top of one of them, a very large one," which was pretty much the extent of Caspa's knowledge so far. Apart from "We have young ones too, as in your pack, or at least, as there soon will be," she added. "You should preserve your energy more carefully, until they are born." She didn't mean to preach to one who had at least a year or two on her, but there wasn't much point in holding back either. It then struck her, just why had this woman ridden all the way out here, to collapse on the ground? Was she escaping something, or meaning to punish herself? It didn't at first make sense to the skeletal silk-furred mongrel.

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