Though they were young, the children felt the same sort of energy their parents seemed to be responding to. The moon was heavy with a strange glow, the color was never a shade Saorlaith could remember before. Dutifully she had waited for guidance from her parents, the reassuring touch from her mother returned with a quick peppering of her kisses before Mama had gone. Nervously, Saorlaith found herself checking the edges of the den, the familiar safe haven they were provided with needed to be inspected, she needed to be certain that whatever she was feeling now did not get worse. Nothing looked different and nothing smelled different, everything seemed to be exactly where she had come to expect everything. The herbal scent she associated with their family was just as it should have been. She didn't notice the return of her mother until she heard her father speaking and her little ears perked. She came forward to weave her way from one parent's limbs to the other, nuzzling gently against each parent before she looked to her siblings.

This ritual - this was different. It was new.

But the budding druid was not afraid. There was in her a great curiosity, and perhaps that would someday prove to be her ruin. Now though, Saorlaith stood at the mouth of their den with her socks 'soaked' in the red. It might have been like blood, if she had much of an inclination to think such a way. Faolán, She left her parents and sister to gently press her nose to her brother's soft cheek. Come? She would stay with him - supporting him forward, with all the love a sibling could muster. Do not fear She parroted what Lestan had said only moments before - although with the sort of confidence only a child could claim. She'd never known bad and so this meant it would be good, right?