Word Count → 453 :: -snorts- Hohoho!
Mésange tried to distract herself by allowing her thoughts to stray, or counting the number of fallen trees before her. Anything to suppress the anxious thoughts for a moment. It worked for seconds at a time, although never long enough to completely relieve her mind from the crushing weight of anxiety. She took a moment to consider the extent of the damages caused by the storm. It hadn't been this bad back in Freetown. The winds had been heavy, yes, but obviously not comparable to what had befallen these lands. The Québécoise could only hope, for this pack's sake, that they'd had sturdy enough shelters to shield them from the storm. She thought of Aniwaya too, the tribe located several days south-west from where she stood. Had they come out of this unscathed? And Honoré, wherever he was- she could only hope he was roaming his native province and not this area.
Too many thoughts were tossed around in her head, it made her nauseous. Or perhaps the anxiety was doing that. An answer to her request helped her regain her bearings. It gave her something to hang on to. Whoever this person was, she had been kind and courteous enough to alert Mésange of her upcoming arrival. Help was on the way. Her feet remained planted firmly in place, as if the muddy ground was enough to keep her from moving freely. It certainly felt like gravity had become so extreme that moving was an impossible feat. So she waited, fiddling with her bracelets and humming nervously until a light-pelted lady emerged from the woods.
''Hello,'' she replied, a sigh of relief escaping with the last syllable of her greeting. Mésange then realized she hadn't come up with a speech or even a vague idea of how to explain her situation. And she didn't have to. Her facial expression froze in a mixture of shock and disbelief when the woman so kindly introduced herself. Honoré's daughter took a moment to examine her, noting the dichotomous irises and the color of her pelt. If this was her father's sister, then this had to be Aniwaya. ''I am sorry. This is not Aniwaya?'' she blurted out incredulously. Her pastel gaze scanned the vicinity, hoping to find an answer amidst the damaged scenery. Perhaps the tribe had migrated up north. ''I am looking for this tribe, with Dawali the tribe leader. Where Tayui and Aurèle live, sisters of Honoré Bélanger. You are-'' she took a moment, a flustered look straining her features. It was difficult, expressing herself in a language that wasn't hers. ''T'es- T'es ma matante? Est-ce que tu m'comprends? J'm'appelle Mésange.''
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