It felt to Vega very much like things had just happened at the right time.
This place - so aptly named - had sprung up since the last time they'd been here. Vega knew Darius, it's founder, from Storms Edge. He'd impressed her there, because he'd been there to help, even while things were bad in his own area of the world. Vega liked him, although she didn't know him well, and he seemed to be a genuine and rather kind man. Also, he had that sort of "no-nonsense just get on with it" attitude which she very much appreciated. She was never destined to be a great thinker and she found nothing more irritating than navel-gazing and what she dubbed a 'hey nonny nonny' attitude.
They had come here, the two of them and their extended family, because Vega needed a break. She had no shame in admitting that, none at all. Storm's Edge had been a year long siege and she had been terrified throughout it. Added in to that the fact that Arlo had been missing, that she'd seen people she cared about who had died, and then she'd been put on trial for thumping someone who totally deserved it. Come to that, she'd made friends - some of whom had died - and she'd been terrified and she'd cradled dying children in her arms as she sang them back to being alive.
Vega was more than a little bit tired.
She was tired in her bones. In her heart and in her soul.
And so they'd come here.
The idea, of course, had been to come here and get pampered at a luxury resort. Once they'd got here though, they'd found that this place was here, that there was work to be done and Vega had known, immediately, that this was far and away the better thing for her. To come somewhere where she could make a difference, work hard and just get on with things. That was ideal for her. Vega knew that there were things that she needed to work through, and this place would allow that far more than some lap of luxury place where there were hot and cold running dweebs all covered in oil and impossibly beautiful, and all apparently desperate to try and paw at her and help her relax.
Whatever had they been thinking?
She'd gone hunting the night that they'd arrived here and Vega had met Sir Chip. She knew him already and he was a good person. Small, since he was a tunawa, but there were other people here too. Lars was one of them. "Wotcha," Vega said with a smile. Lars was a friendly enough fellow. Vega thought that he was used to tromping townsfolk like most of the refugees here were, and she and Arlo had immediately spotted him as someone more like them. "So, I'd like to jus' go past where I set the oasis, make sure it's ok, an' then we can go?" Lars nodded and the pair of them set off.
Vega moved alongside the man, happy and comfortable in silence. She didn't need to talk, didn't want to. Mostly, when she talked, people insisted on talking back and nine times out of ten, what they said just annoyed her. So, she was content with silence. They moved together, checking the oasis and making sure that it was all happening there how it should, and then Vega gestured. "This way," she said.
As they moved, she did take a moment to stop and point to some tracks. Kneeling together next to them, she glanced at Lars to see if he'd spotted them and if he knew what they were. "These're the big turkey-lookin' things, apparently Kazenfowl?" He nodded. "Yes," he replied, "they are. They're difficult to hunt, we can't find their nests."
Vega pointed upwards, to the treeline. "That's cos they nest in trees," she said. Lars looked at her with surprise on his face and Vega nodded. "I noticed when I was lookin' for the etchwing. They're slippery little things, but they nest righ' in the dark part of the tree, an' high up, too."