It had been difficult to gain access to Aurea’s rooms directly after the battle against the Arishok. Seris couldn’t lie her way in, not directly at least. But half-truths and presenting herself as if she were delivering some vital resource requested of her seemed to afford her the ability to slip through several doors flanked by cagey, worried wolves. Stating the truth with a tone of self-importance seemed to work. I have needles for suturing, I have clean bandages, my canteen is filled with purified water. All of this she could say. These were all truths, and she held her breath hoping no one would question if she was summoned to deliver such items–mercifully no one did. If they had, she would state she was a healer; again, a truth that could pass her lips, just not one pertinent to the context at hand. 

For a moment, she was juvenile again, mapping out looping truths and burying leads to pursue what excited her. For a moment, the mantle of grief she wore was a light. 

But she managed entry to Aurea’s room where a more skilled healer had completed their work mending the alpha queen just as they were packing their vials and tinctures back into their healing kit. Seriswyn knew she would not go unnoticed by Aurea, even with so much else that must have been on the queen’s mind, but she attempted to fade into the wallpaper until the healer finished their instructions on Aurea’s longer term care and left the room. Aurea was more than capable of taking care of herself, but Seriswyn committed the instructions to memory nonetheless.

And suddenly, they were alone and an embarrassment gripped Seris’ heart tightly. What was she doing here? Why did she presume she was wanted? How long could she stare at Aurea in silence as if viewing her through a fishbowl before the quiet would be too much? “I’m sorry–I shouldn’t have,” she stammered. “This was intrusive, I was just–I worried. I’ll go.” 

The streets of Eterna were busier than Juneau had ever seen them, and yet it had been some time since she last came across a face she knew. Not long ago, this would have satisfied her. Now she just found it odd. She had come to meet so many people between those wretched farmlands that saw her end (her mortal end, at least) and Lysara. It was strange to her that she was now borderline seeking a familiar face. Toward the center of all the fanfare and commotion was a display showcasing the advanced weaponry of Aetherium infused arrows, apparently so easily made that the crowd was invited to test them in a target contest. It reminded Juneau of how she’d met Julian–a makeshift competition of skipping rocks, an activity she would now begrudgingly admit she preferred with company. When she saw Aurea’s face in the crowd she recognized her quickly, and though she had not fought at the Alpha’s side, she knew Aurea carried the reputation of an expert huntress. 

“Do you want to try those new arrows?” Juneau asked stiffly in place of a greeting when she was close enough to Aurea. They had not spoken since Lupercalia, and though Juneau had anticipated having an extreme aversion to Aurea, it had not been so. The Vuldak really hated how that kept happening in the past months. She desired to have connections, but her resistance to them existed in equal measure. She could only lose people if she bonded with them. “I figured you’re meant to be good at archery, it would probably be more fun to challenge you than these people who don’t know what the hels they’re doing.” It was meant to be something like a compliment, but she was as bad with those as she was with greetings.