[~♪♬♪♬♪~]

skill: [none]

---

It had been long enough.

Long enough that she had sulked, without end.

Long enough that she shrunk from the responsibility set before her.

If there was anything that Euphemia had learned of Dawnbreak’s recent events, it was that life’s suffering was interminable. The realization that bad things, final-things, even death-things, were a part of this existence and not something that one could avoid. It was a liberating experience, as worrying as it was. But for a woman who had spent the better part of a season wallowing in the overwhelming experience of continual loss, it felt nice to move on.

Not that one could just decide to move on, but Euphemia was very much feeling brighter about continuing forward, to face the void that the wheel of life left in its wake.

Euphemia’s one true love would always be horticulture and biology. She wondered if her family knew this about her, seeing as such skills were mostly borne of her recent adventures across the universe and stars. However, she had been bred a druid; and the love of flora was as much as part of her blood as was Frostfang Vale itself. So, knowing this, what was Euphemia’s preferred method of getting back in touch with herself?

Why, foraging of course!

~♪♬♪♬♪~
oh, magnolia, she can move oceans and rivers with ease,
a word from her lips, her sirens kiss,
will send you straight into abyss,
magnolia, I wish she'd give her secrets away,
enchants everyone and I think it'd be fun,
to be like her someday...

It was a monotonous endeavor that she undertook, but she loved it. Plants did not presume; they did not speak, they did not judge. Amongst them, was one of the only places Phia felt safe. Perusing for goldenrod amongst the warm-yet-cold valley betwixt her mountains, her mind quieted and she sang one of the only songs she knew.

Skill: N/A

---

The morning sun seemed a bit brighter ... as if trying to steal the pain away from a family that continued to dabble in suffering.

Tiberii would rise form her den, stretching the stiffness from her limbs. She'd had a restless sleep, tossing and turning in such a way that left an ache in all of her bones. But she would press forward, exiting the den and entering the bright light of the morning. Perhaps, just perhaps, the warmth of the sun could seep into her soul and begin to heal her.

A soft sigh escaped her as she moved forward, debating what her direction for the day would be.

And as she pondered, a gentle voice would permeate through the glittering air. Tiberii's head would lift, her ears cupping toward the source of the melody. It was a bright, purposeful song, and one that rang out on a voice that Tiberii knew dearly. Euphemia. Aurelia's twin flame, and one that Tiberii admittedly was a bit jealous of, if she was being completely honest.

But, that did not make the titan love her any less.

She would follow the lure of the song, drawn to Euphemia as she wove through the snowy landscape. And she would find her smaller silver sibling, puttering around in the undergrowth, humming and singing and collecting. Part of her did not want to interrupt her sister's peace ... for she knew how hard everything had been. With all the loss, and now ... the loss of Kuhn, too.

But she couldn't help it.

Tiberii would slow, smiling as she ruffed a soft greeting toward Phia. Is tha ... one of ma's songs? Her head would tilt as she tried to soften her very presence. She did not want to disturb her sister's work.

---

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

Usually, she was alone when foraging. Not many had the stamina for it. It was a different kind of stamina than wolfkind was used to; instead of long-term pursuit and strength-of-jaws, it required a delicate touch. Patience. This was not a skill that could be easily cultivated or refined, for the only factor that influenced it was time itself. Plants could not be forced to germinate, they could not be forced to bloom or bear fruit. Either you knew where and in what climate conditions to look, or you didn’t.

Then, you just, looked around.

What her foraging was not yielding in herbs, it yielded in sisterhood. Tiberii found her and came up asking about the song. Euphemia smiled softly, the demure curve of her mouth gathering in both cheeks, and narrowed her gaze wondering if Tiberii had purposefully sought her out, or if Euphemia had procured her just as sirens lured sailors to their death via melody.

Yeah, it is. Euphemia admitted, hoping her sibling wouldn’t poke fun at her voice or chosen activity or the fact that she was singing a song from their childhood. Tiberii had never been the kind, but... you know how siblings can be, even when grown. Similarly, the maiden briefly entertained the idea of a duet with the dark pillar, but immediately shuffled it to the back of her mind when she remembered how solemn everything was. Want to help? she asked, waving her tail in a white-flag welcome.

I’m gathering Goldenrod.

---

Skill:

---

The echos of the song would fade away, the soft memory of Olive floating away with it, as if on a silver breeze.

Euphemia would see her, and smile. It would warm Tiberii, and the bull would mirror the motion as she continued to draw closer. It was clear how cautious she was trying to be with her large paws as she neared, but gentility was not necessarily Tiberii's strong suit. It never had been. Where her sisters had been blessed with Olive's grace, Tiberii has been gifted Tiberius's brawn.

It was a blessing of its own, of course. But it did not lend her well to certain tasks that required a more precise touch.

Ya sound like her, Tiberii would hum passively, her voice deep in comparison to her sister's. For a moment, Tiberii's ears would pull back atop her head, perhaps a bit embarrassed by her admission, but she kept her lips raised in a soft smile. I'd love ta help, she'd continue, carefully moving over toward the patch of unfamiliar herbs. Ya sure, tho? I'm ... not very ... delicate. Her teeth would grit, an awkwardness entering her gaze as she peered toward the Goldenrod.

She was bound to crush it.

She'd ruin Euphemia's day, certainly.

---

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

Skill: [none]

For all the bull in a china shop that Tiberii thought of herself, Euphemia saw a different soul. She saw a woman who was multi-passionate and skilled in many areas that Euphemia herself was not. Tiberii was brave and stalwart, not afraid to combat foe or fire or risk her very life for the greater good. It was every quality that was admired in a capable packwolf

– and if that was so, then what was she but a silly girl who wasted her days gazing at meadows?

Still, Tiberii (the most capable person in the world) offered her help with her silly little task, and commended her silly little song, saying that she sounded like mother. Euphemia smiled, wrinkling her nose, happy to change the subject and focus on the plant task at hand. Though, quietly, Euphemia wondered if Tiberii had an ulterior motive for seeking her out, or if this was just happy happenstance.

Tiberii suggested she wasn’t delicate enough for the task, and Euphemia chuckled. You have teeth, no? she chirped, relying on her sense of humor to relate. They can be used for more than sparring, she suggested with a quirk of a brow, her soft expression suggesting that she was more empathetic to Tiberii’s plight than her words would suggest.

But when Euphemia dragged her gaze from her sister and looked out at this particular crevasse in the Vale, and remembered her plight. It’s pretty late in the season for it. I can’t seem to find much, the maiden admitted, but then caught sight of something at the last second. Euphemia pointed her nose towards the earth as she stepped towards it, unable to take her eyes from it lest she blink and it unceremoniously disappeared.

It has many, long stems with tiny yellow flowers. Like this, see? the sprite looked up and gave Tiberii an encouraging tail wag, hoping she didn’t find this all dreadfully boring.

---

Skill:

---

Tiberii would tower, her large stature casting a long silhouette as the morning sun lifted from behind a tired horizon. The task felt somehow far more daunting than many others, and perhaps it was because there were not many tasks Tiberii chose to partake in that required ... delicacy.

Euphemia would offer a joke, and Tiberii would puff out a soft tut of laughter. Never tried sparrin' with a plant, she'd reply in jest, perhaps in a way to hide something deeper. Tiberii would flick her tail behind her as she returned her attentions to Euphemia. The small nymph would begin to explain the task, describing the flower that sprouted nearby. Tiny stems. Yellow flowers. It swayed gently in the morning breeze, flickering around as if it had some sort of sentience.

And maybe it did.

Tiberii would peel her gaze from her sister, lowering her head toward the delicate little plant. Nostrils would flare, the sheer inhale of her breathe causing the petals to quake. There was a strange smell to it. Sweet, but spicy. The titan would crinkle her nose a bit, but she did not move away, growing perhaps a bit more curious. What do ya use it for?

She was not bored, no, just ... uneducated.

There were certain lessons she regretted not learning from her mother. And now, in this moment, Euphemia provided a delicate outlet to a piece of Tiberii's past that had more recently been lost. A piece of herself she'd lost, a piece she'd thought had died with her mother.

---

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

Tiberii asked what goldenrod was used for. Of course she did, for Tiberii was so nicely feigning interest in her savant-like special interest: botany and plant identification. It was the natural, normal next question to wonder what a plant would be used for. It was the very reason one would want to harvest plants at all: to use them to their medicinal qualities. So, that still begged the very question:

What was goldenrod even used for?

Honestly, I don’t know, Euphemia admitted quickly, as if she had been waiting for Tiberii to ask that question so that she could spit out that very response. I never got to learn that much from Mother. If mother was still alive, Euphemia supposed she would still be working to index and catalogue her wealth of experience, and translate it into her own.

Oh, what a boon that would have been! By the time I realized I'm into plants… she was already gone. Mother was a great healer, told all the stories. Euphemia was not. She was not metaphysical or transcendent, she was not empathic or a conduit. She was just a little girl, who often felt frustrated and unseen. Her worth, she questioned almost daily, almost in every other moment.

Everything I know, I've learned on my own. she gushed to her sister, who she felt so different from, but was unable to not be vulnerable with. Perhaps both things (self-education and unconditional vulnerability) were something to be proud of, but Euphemia regarded them both poorly. You taught yourself how to guard and how to lead… she spoke the words through tight lips, as if she was reluctant to let them go.

and i’ve taught myself how to identify plants, but not use them. Euphemia couldn’t bring herself to look at Tiberii, knowing full and well that she was wallowing in self-loathing. Just another one of her many negative qualities. Fucking useless.

---

Skill:

---

One simple question seemed to unravel Euphemia at the seams. The silver waif lost the wind behind those little sails, her eloquence draining from her as admissions of inadequacy poured from those dark lips. Tiberii instantly stiffened, visibly straining against the wave of loss that seemed to suddenly encumber both of them.

The loss of their mother was still so heavy. So real.

"I never got to learn that much from Mother. By the time I realized I'm into plants… she was already gone."

Gone.

The word hit like a bullet, a fresh wave of grief washing over her with all the power of an ocean. The image of Olive's delicate frame coiled up in the snow flashed to the front of her mind's eye, and Tiberii felt her citrine eyes well with heat. She would take a few steps closer to Euphemia, softening her lips.

Euphemia's grief took the form of self-loathing — and that was something Tiberii could relate to. The bull was hardest on herself because she needed to be better. She needed to do better for her family so that they wouldn't have to feel this way. So that they would not ever have to feel ... inadequate.

But she hadn't been able to save Euphemia from this.

"Fucking useless."

Euphemia ... Tiberii would hum, her voice as soft as the rolling of distant thunder. The bull would take a forelimb and, if allowed, would drape it over the smaller silver wolf and draw Euphemia into her own chest in a gentle hug. Yer anythin' but useless, alright? Yer important to so many. To me. Tiberii would rest her head gently atop Euphemia's and would allow the silence to encompass them for a few moments ... woven together in their grief ...

I'll tell ya a secret, she started, letting Euphemia free from the hug and allowing her eyes to search her smaller sister. I'm makin' shit up as I go. A soft chuckle fell from her lips, her sadness mixing with the softness of her jest as she tried to lighten the mood. But I do know that Ma wouldn't want us beatin' ourselves up. The bull took a gentle step backwards, crunching against the snow. That's what Dawnbreak is about, ya? Buildin' each other up, not beatin' ourselves down.

Tiberii would smile, a strange mix of acceptance and grief lighting her features. It was quiet for a moment, and Tiberii turned her gaze back toward the flowers.

If it'd help ya learn, I'll eat the goldenrod and we can see what happens, she offered with a shrug, trying to hold back a playful smile.

---

[she doesn't know that the world is turning just for her]

skill: [none]

---

If Euphemia knew what kind of personal responsibility Tiberii took regarding the plights of her family members, Phia might have somewhat abstained from her cathartic release. Instead of pulling back the veil and allowing Tiberii to glimpse her many mental neuroses, maybe the Maiden should have said something like 'I just feel sad sometimes!' because that would have been much more normal, and Tiberii wouldn’t feel so responsible for her.

and Tiberii, bless her, she said the platitudes she was supposed to say. She hugged her, and Euphemia felt appropriately comforted from the proximity and the nearness of her dearest blood-borne littermates. It still all felt like things Tiberii was smart enough to say, especially because there was one fact that Euphemia knew which could never be denied.

Euphemia cocked her head back from their delightful forehead-touch to look in the green eyes of her sister. Tiberii, listen, she reasoned, her voice much steadier than it had been before. I’ve spent my life here. But I've also been not here. Many in these lands had similarly been made victims of the Great Mythris Disappearing Act, but Euphemia cared little for the problems of others. Her time spent in another universe, no matter how long ago, affected her greatly.

I know what it's like to come back and realize that… without me, life continued on as it always had. Internally, Euphemia chastised herself for going even darker with her subject matter, and for seemingly being unable to engage in normal small talk. Expressing this still didn't stem the feeling that, even when she was actively contributing, her contributions were negligible and forgettable.

In response Tiberii provided her secrets, one of which was that she had no idea what she was doing. Euphemia took a step backward, laughing at the apparent irony of such a thing. You’re pretty good at making it up as you go, Sis. You’re creating a legacy. You’re so much like Father. Next to her, Euphemia felt physically and metaphorically overshadowed. It was crazy to her to think that Tiberii might not know how mythical she was, especially because she so resembled their father, who was larger than life himself, in all the meanings of the phrase.

At the offer of the black obelisk being a willing test subject, Euphemia finally managed to swipe the dourness from her face. She accepted without pretense. That would be nice. Euphemia had almost forgotten about the Goldenrod. It seemed so silly, now. know it heals… something. I’m just not sure what.

---