Foxglove was caught in a vortex of emotions. Maybe that little flame hadn't been extinguished, maybe it was slowly being fed, maybe Fox was making the absolute worst choices. Was he? He had no idea. But when he heard the sound of her call, he'd turned from his place on the borders and made his way into the very heart of Avon. The land had more gifts than what any could expect - what he'd assumed was just a little plot of red flowers had instead provided them with a wealth of resources.

None perhaps more precious than their Matriarch, who gave so freely and so much to others in turn.

Foxglove's brow furrowed at the tension in her face, those bright, expressive eyes of his showing his concern before he took his seat. It was not a long time before Fable had begun to explain the reason that she'd called them all together. The world itself was protesting, and Foxglove had to wonder what was disrupting it so. He had settled not too far from a cluster of the Goldencourte children, spotting Aisling when Fable laid out the edict that everyone was to inform each other of where they were going and for how long, and that the young of Avon stayed within the meadows. It was probably a death-sentence to those little children who were just getting their first tastes of freedom. For a moment, his green eyes strayed over the youngest of them all.

So much promise and potential - and yet the world itself was full of ire, and it was bleeding into their lands. Waters corrupted, unfit for anyone - they would have to make sure that they were careful. He'd just leaned down to tell the kids something - considering promising to make being on lock down more fun. But then Fable was going to leave them and go to Druid's Rise? His head shot up back to full height, a rare scowl on his face. She was going to leave now? He wanted to question her, protest profoundly, he wanted to tell her how foolish that was and how bad of an idea. He had to steel his face and try to swallow down the rise of emotions, but this wasn't his place to argue with her. Not in public in front of everyone like this.

The tone she used suggested that she was leaving no room for arguments, and Foxglove could understand that. However. He was still going to shove his nose right where it didn't belong again.