Carefully the doctor navigated through her home in the trees, the treehouse creaking gently in the wind as she found a scrap of leather string to tie back her hair. Ti’niva had offered to teach her to how to properly use her bow and Rose was bursting with excitement. She had washed and changed out of her green dress into a sturdy pair of woolen trousers, a black long sleeved shirt and a warm vest made from a fox pelt. Her clothes didn’t restrict her movement like that dress had; it was freeing to wear something that was so unladylike. Again Rose was faced with the realization that she had changed, perhaps for the better since leaving Strosdyn. With a deft flick of her hand she finished buckling her boots and grabbed her bow and quiver before making her way out of the door.
A crisp wind blew through the city of Desnind. A constant murmur of voices could be heard as the Sev’ryn went about their daily routines. With purposeful strides the young woman made her way out of the city and into the hazel shadows of the Makubwa Lori.
The air was different here, wilder and unknowable. A cool cutting breeze whispered through the leaves making it sound as through the trees were carrying on a conversation with each other. Perhaps they were. Rose relished in the wintery air, the feeling of the wind on her face was a welcome sensation. Sometimes she envied winged creatures for their ability to soar on those vast currents of air; to be unhampered and free.
The warbling voice of the stream that she had first met Ti’niva at could be heard in the distance. The water had been bitterly cold but it was nothing that a good campfire could not fix. How lucky she had been too have been saved from a cold miserable walk back to Desnind.
Birds chirped and conversed in the dappled canopy above her, a soft swishing of grass could be heard up ahead that initially sent a thread of suspicion up Rose’s spine. Rather than panic like the night before, the woman paused in her slow walk and waited. Her patience was rewarded as a pair of small white deer with a single horn atop each of their heads walked into view: Icraphern. Smiling, Rose stood completely still as the delicate beasts made their way over to the stream to begin drinking; unaware that she was watching. She had not realized it in the dark last night, but their coats were not completely white. Little attractive tufts of greenish fur were dotted across their bodies, along with a featherlike tail sporting the same color. They were lovely creatures; it was so strange to Rose that the Icraphern had been the source of her fear several breaks ago.