Eilidh clung to Saorlaith like moss on a wet rock. The dream was so unsettling to her, and her sister’s calm confidence was a small comfort. She was not used to being out so far, and her grey eyes darted back and forth at every noise and movement.

It took her a moment to realize that Faolan was ALSO out far, and she knew that his condition may not be the best for it. He had ventured further out that Eilidh had though…so he must be okay? She looks to him as he said that he was indeed okay, but Eilidh could see his form. Could see the shake in his legs, no matter how he tried to hide it.

Her anxiety did not allow her to overlook anything.

Her own body shook as her eyes gazed at his legs, but he said he would catch up. What was these runes anyway? She shook her head.

”I d-d-on’t know for s-sure,” she said as she looked in the direction that her sister had indicated they should go. She would not move a muscle until her sister moved, and even then, her movement would be hesitant, not wanting to part from her brother. Her own form would be close to the ground, as was how she normally walked, in a crouched position. She catches sight of some moss, and swipes some with her paw, wiping some on her chest.

”M-m-oss eats sickness,” she murmurs, turning to Faolan, she tries to do the same to him. Her paranoid about the sickness…it never really went away, and if he could fall behind, he would need it the most.