She had been back in the Respite for only a little amount of time. But enough to know that something was very wrong, even when it felt like they'd all had a breath of fresh air —
the vision that had touched the wolves' of Mythris' minds again, giving them all a sense of unease, as it always did, yet the plague seemed to recede.
It should have been good news that the river that flowed in and out of their territory was free of the muck that had poisoned over half of Elysium — those who had not left to Avon when things here started to turn. But it didn't matter. No, the toxic plague had done its due diligence. It lingered in them, waiting to be awoken, or so Aelia thought. When she came back to the Respite to find Fiora... She was like a zombie. Something had weasled and wormed its way into her. What if it had gotten in her, too? She'd felt sick these past few days, but only because she'd been thinking so much about it, her mind racing.
In all the time she had been gone, she'd honestly forgotten of Lykaon's promise — remembering briefly as she surpassed the tunnel to the South on the way down, but hoped if he did come, he would leave his cache on the edge of their territory — or at least tell her moms that he knew her, he'd be safe under that passage. But it seemed just as time slipped away from her, it had for the stranger.
Today, the Five deemed it so that they would meet again; that a promise would be kept.
The blonde Seer was investigating the river leading out of the Respite, leading into what would become the Howling River. The man's call stopped her in her tracks, her eyes widening — brightening,
Lykaon.
She says to herself, breathless, feeling bad, she had forgotten. With haste, the long-legged woman trekked towards where the call had emanated from.
Upon the first sight of the male, she thought he was something else completely. A creature, like
Dre Klage, stumbling near their territory, mimicking the call of someone she knew — then she realized, it was him, just, with an entire feast on his back.
Sacred Wolf Mother.
The Daystar whispered under her breath, a term she'd picked up from her mother
Valeska.
Lykaon!
She called, bounding over the last few yards towards him,
Holy shit. You are a masterful hunter, aren't you?
She was a bit in awe. One, because he came back, and two, because he hadn't bull-shitted his skills. She could see the exhaustion that came with it, the dark, tired circles underneath his eyes, and the way his shoulders were weighted with the payload.
I don't know how I will ever repay you for this.
She spoke,
Here, let me help.
She took no time in coming to his side and brushing up against him, leaning in to take a few of the hares off of his back, transferring them to hers.