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Fiora stuck close to Sreda these days, mostly out of fear she'd need the herb again and wouldn't have the senses to eat it herself, but also out of a deep-rooted loyalty; one that had already been there, but expanded into the never-ending pool it'd become over the last... days? Weeks? Months? The witchdoctor wasn't actually sure, things still unraveling in her mind. All the experiences were there, but she couldn't actually tell in what order things had happened; as if someone dumped a bunch of photos before her, ones she'd taken some time ago while drunk, and must now remember the order of. She was figuring it out.... just, slowly.

And one thing she couldn't remember was when, or how, she lost Mir . Did she even know her sister had spiraled down a dark, deep hole of unnatural sickness?

So when she had the time, Fiora wandered just a little bit. When Sreda was busy, or resting, or simply seemed to understand her cousin wanted to deviate from their path by a mile or two. Fiora searched, hoping for any sign of her little sister, her heart aching; she had so few purposes in life, and among being the Elysium Doctor and keeping her siblings safe, she was doing neither. But, alas, the world kept turning.
The dreams kept coming.
Mythris kept changing, fighting. Where it seemed to be losing grip on its plagued areas, the waters of Elysium clearing, Fiora was not so daft as to believe everything to be over. There was still some terrible weight in the back of her mind, a heaviness to her heart; a small part of her mourned for Mythris and all it'd gone through that it believed this was the way, for the structures and ideas and beings that didn't get to make it this far. She worried for the Dream Visitor and his silence, hoping that whatever he was... he was alright, that perhaps he could still even help.

Fiora stalked through the pine forest, fur fluffed against the cold and paws moving quickly as she investigated for any signs of Mir. Would she have bothered coming back to Elysium after all she'd gone through, risked seeing Harper? Perhaps she'd simply let Fiora go home on her own, assuming there would be someone there to help her. That wasn't entirely false, right?
She had to be quick. Fiora didn't want to be out here alone after it got dark, facing the unnatural chill on her own. She wanted to ask if it was even wise to return North when this frigidity stole away even the sun, but she knew that's exactly why the Callosum had to return. She had people to check on, too.
Fiora would remain at Sreda's side, pretend she could ever repay the faith and devotion shown to her.

Paws tingling, Fiora told herself that in a minute, she'd turn back.

In a minute.

One minute turned to two, two turned to three, three to five, five to ten. Moments, minutes passed, and still Fiora searched. Her pads stung with the bite of the cold, but her heart cried for Mir. What sort of older sister was she, leaving Mir all by herself? She had plans, things to do, hopes and dreams to carry out, and Fi.... she'd left. Walked away. Sick, deranged, confused, sure, but to her that wasn't enough. Nothing short of death should've moved her from her little sisters side, and yet here she was, beholden to Sreda. Not so terrible a fate, she had to admit, but still she regretted parting from Mir.

The cold, quiet evening was parted by a scent, a voice. Fiora blinked, head lifting and purple gaze searching. Ah- there.

Здравствуйте!

Mh. Wait. Fi blinked, nose scrunching, but then:

"Hello!"

A short man of blues and whites, perched upon the trunk of a fallen tree. Fiora waved her tail back, turned to face him properly, but she didn't move to close the distance; friendly, but Fiora hadn't stayed safe in life this long by throwing caution to the wind when strangers were concerned. She didn't let herself settle in the snow, shifting on her feet and always having one up, paw curled into itself or pressed into some warm bit of fur to thaw. It was probably time to head back to Sreda soon, do a good ol' huddle for warmth through the night.

"What nice weather, huh," she jested with a hint of a sigh to her words.

Nate Ronan. He was foreign to her in all ways, but seemed... kindly enough. Didn't everyone, at first? Still, his apparent politeness settled her a little bit, and she smiled back at the introduction. She stood her ground quietly, not moving as he approached, but not taking the steps to close the distance herself, either.

"Fiora Bacchus." she offered in return, tail waving. He, unlike her, couldn't complain about a good snow but admitted the cold was less than desirable. Sure, there were probably some people out there enjoying this vicious change of the seasons, the sharp bite of the air. Like... Northfall. Maybe she was thinking about it all wrong. The snow itself wasn't bad, she had to admit, just the chill it settled in her bones.
She grinned.

"I find I cannot argue, though I would like to," she giggled, waving a paw, "I have certainly dealt with much worse than snow or even cold in the last moons."

She felt the dry scabs on the very tips of her lips crack, as if reminding her.

Fiora blinked, surprised, as he mentioned a blue flame. One by the river, one that didn't splutter or fade away, that didn't ravenously consume the entire forest. No, no she couldn't fuckin' say she knew what he was talking about, but when she looked out into the distance behind him, she could see some sort of.... luminescence.
And damn him, if he wasn't right in coercing her onward with curiosity.

"I cannot say I've seen any magic fire," she offered, guarded, but interested.

If only she knew her Aunties ass had been crisped in this very fire.

Fiora lifted a single shoulder, casually dismissing his polite worry. "We pay price we must, to help where we can, no? Make nights easier for others." And she'd do it again in less than a heartbeat if she thought it might make Elysium safer.

He offered to show her the fire. Well, she was already out here, right? And Five above, was it cold. Risking this very clearly not hostile man was going to be an unsavory sort was a risk she was willing to take.

In the pursuit of knowledge and toasty toes!

"My cousin waits," she hummed, smiling, tail waving gently, "But quick walk sounds nice, especially to warm toes."