She had earned much at the festival. Blankets and bits of clothing items made from colorful silks, strange trinkets and baubles that seemed unimportant to anybody but her, little gifts from admirers, and a mishmash of other such items. Some she carried in her old messenger style satchel with her today as she walked d'Arte, trying to clear her head. She had scarcely been in her homeland for the last month, so now she paced the borders slowly taking in the familiar sights and sounds. Breathing deeply, the scent of her pack's realm was like a balm to her soul.
She had missed this place. Coming back, she wondered for the briefest moment how she had spent so much time away at the festival? But her reasons all came flooding back with stark clarity a moment later. It was so easy to stay away because she had told herself she needed the time to think, to figure out what to do about the demon in their midst. She had served her pack while she was gone, trading books and Soraya's milk when she could... and something else, too... and most of the items she brought home were for them. But still, her time away wasn't purely for service of her pack. It may have been part cowardice. Have I lost my resolve? Perhaps the demon was winning, perhaps she could never make them see.
But one day, Willow will come and expose his lies. She just had to be patient and wait for that day. Willow... who looked so like Soul. Her heart tripped as her memory drummed up the image of the woman. Soul... so entrancing... she wished she were here now, but she had to be patient and wait for her, too. Soul knew where she was, and Orin had to believe that she would come to her.
A cool breeze rolled in and rustled her bright locks, and by the feel and the scent she knew she was near d'Arte's coast. Coming back to reality for a moment, her ears perked and she listened for the familiar sounds of the bay. It was still too far off to see from the point of the wooded borders, but d'Arte's coastal wonder was close.
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