The closer they get to his home the more she notices the way he moves ahead only to slow himself back down to wait for her. It's...sweet. And Dyname feels conflicted considering this of a mortal. So she pretends not to notice. Even while her breathing grows rougher with the movement and distance. The walk has taken more out of her than she had expected, as this mortal body continues to prove its limitations. Every uneven patch of ground jars painfully through her ribs, careful breaths growing shallower the longer she forces herself onward. And by the time the end has arrived, exhaustion hangs visibly from her small frame, dragging at her paws and pulling her nose downward.

"We're here." the announcement is a wave of relief, and she slowly lifts her dual toned eyes. This was his home, but it was foreign to her, where she longs for the salty air and the crashing waves this place smells of warmth, earth and wolves, layers of overlapping scents that speak of family. It feels so full, and Dyname feels so out of place.

Her eyes follow him as he pushes together leaves and dirt into a makeshift little nest imperfect and uneven and entirely sincere, her eyes soften through their fatigue.

"you get cahmfortable i'll call me mahm" Okay... by the time she lowers herself her composure slips, the movement sending sharp pain through her chest as her body curls instinctively around herself ears dropping as she breathes through it in careful short little pulls.

—

Weakness plagued Lyra less and less each day. But enough to feel it, still, the weight of a limitation. It reminded her often and again of less visible restraints. The uncertain world she found herself in, where forgiveness of another and salvation for the self could become one and the same.

She had been distant, knowing it was likely by now others would notice the lengthy sourness of her mood. She knew too that the further along time went, the less obvious her ailments, the less excuse they would be willing to proffer for her attitude.

So she tried to do what she had so often done in the past, grit her teeth and press on. She didn't understand why it was harder, now, than when she had been a whelp fresh stolen from home by unkind faces.

Speaking of whelps — Lonán's call lifted Lyra's attention from the preparing of fishes. She licked the sharp bite of scales off her lips and hurried out to find her son.

He was not alone. A girl dressed like starlight on water, collapsed into a makeshift bed. Fast breath, like someone wounded. And Lonán, hovering like a hen. Captain held herself upright and cocked her brow at him, with a grim tug of lip that still somehow levied amusement his way. Who's tis ten, Mo Chuisle?

She can't help but fall very still as the woman appears, suddenly hyper aware, her eyes lift slowly from the little nest Lonan made her toward the woman and for the first time she looks unmistakably like what is beneath her composure. A hurt child far from home. The woman smells like saltwater and fish and something stronger beneath it all. Familiarity and protection. The kind of presence that fills a space naturally. Dyname notices immediately the way Lonán folds toward her without hesitation, and something in her chest aches at the sight. Her heart pulling to Ampoule

When he moves between them afterward like some tiny guardian standing watch over her, Dyname blinks surprised enough that it shows plainly across her face. "do naht wahrry. me mahm's de best." she doesn't know what to say right away, her breathing hitching faintly sharpness lancing through her side making her flinch before she can hide it.

... I need to find my sister, she admits softly. We were at the tree, but she did not come back through with me

And despite all the steadiness she usually carries, despite the calm restraint in her nature, there is something very young in the way she speaks.

—

Ye did good, Mo Chuisle, Lyra praised, pressing her nose to his forehead. She'd hesitated to embrace him outright — a display which might rightly embarrass him in front of his damsel. But when Lyra's son closed the space she wrapped around him tightly in answer, Ye were brave, I'm proud of ye.

Strange how clench of her heart pained her so. She'd been fighting tooth and nail to save her own life at his age, and here Lonán was saving worlds.

Was that a victory or a failing as a mother?

When he stepped back, she hesitated to let go. We'll see what fancy vittles we can dig up fer ye t'celebrate, howssat sound?

Green eyes affixed next to Dyname, ears pricked. Young thing. Lyra's sympathy didn't extend far past her own brood, but if the girl mattered to Lonán then the Captain supposed she had some benevolence to spare. Besides, there could be profit in it. It wasn't a ransom, exactly, but surely a grateful family would find it in their heart to reward rescuers?

Sister, eh? Well, Howff can 'elp ye find 'er. Well need names an' descriptions, 'o 'er an' whatever territory ye lived in before — all that magic nonsense. Not that the girl looked to be in a fit state for recollecting. But first, why don't we get ye settled an' 'ave a healer look et yer wounds? We've remedies t'elp wit' yer breathin', an' plenty t'elp with pain. I'll call fer Velyre .

Dyname remained quietly within the little nest of leaves Lonán had made for her. The pain had settled deep into her ribs now, a persistent ache that followed every breath and movement alike. She did her best not to draw attention to it, her attention remaining fixed instead on Lonán and his mother.

She found herself staring longer than what was probably polite, there was something comforting about it, something she missed. For all the strength Dyname carried herself with, she was still only a pup who missed her family terribly. When Lyra began speaking directly to her, Dyname forced herself to focus. The mention of finding her sister immediately captured her attention, ears perking forward and some of the exhaustion fading from her gaze.

Her name is Ampoule, she answered quickly. She's...mostly white with some brown, we lived by the ocean...right on it actually not at all like her in fact, but they were sisters nonetheless. The mention of healers, earned a much different reaction dark ears falling back in reluctance a natural response every child felt when medicine was being discussed. Besides, they didn't know it but she was a nymph, did nymphs even need medicine or would time prove the best remedy?

...I can wait until after we find her. there was no one better to doctor her than another nymph, even though to them it was surely an unreasonable suggestion. Her dual toned gaze shifted back to Lonan, offering a small smile at his comment, You did, she mused softly. But then...

Mutton?

She looked between them both,

What is mutton?

—

O' course it'll be mutton. She answered with a grin, holding a paw to her chest as if she could hardly believe anything else was under consideration. If she meant to spoil him for his victory, might as well go all out, or what was she Captain for?

The girl, on the other hand, hadn't earned such prime vittles and Lyra had no particular attachment to her beyond Lonán's entertainment. Comes from sheep. Lyra explained, 'Ardy beasties what live up in our mountains, with big 'orns fit te send ye off any cliff an' 'ooves what can scale a sheer rock face! Very difficult t'hunt. Expensive t'procure. But te Howff 'as its ways.

Eh... why not give the girl a taste? Ampoule would be footing the bill. Surely she'd be grateful in manifest ways for them having feasted her sister. And tended her wounds. And given her shelter.

I know yer sister. She'd been at the rowdy celebration some time back, when The Wisp had found that bloody rune under the floorboards. Mal had been making doe-eyes at her. Lyra was relatively sure they were a family of means, and potentially magic. An' I'll not be riskin' 'er ire by leavin' ye in pain an' 'unger under me own roof. Not neighborly.

Lips pursed, It'll take a few days t'find 'er, mos' likely, if she don't show up 'ere 'erself. In the meantime, ye'll be our guest an' all that entails. So ye can rest easy, pup. Ye'll be well looked after.

A brow cocked at Lonán, half expecting him to volunteer to do the looking after. Would she be wise to allow it if he did? He had a good head on his shoulders. Still, Lyra knew well enough what a pretty face could do to a man. If the girl had ill-intent, or meant to take advantage of goodwill, would Lonán think to question it?