since feeling is first

set just before her departure to the court

---

It seemed that all was quiet within the Vale.

With the lateness of the hour (just on the eve of twilight), there wasn’t much activity. It was an hour for transition, similar to that time in the morning when all things wound up for their day, except for in this moment, all things were winding down. The frost-tipped winds kept the insects from sounding their shrill evening-tide cries, and there was a distinct lack of bird calls (for most had flown south). The quietude made her wonder; made her imagine,

she wondered what her daughters were doing, off high in the mountains in their den, certainly being settled to bed but by whom, Olive hadn’t a clue. Similarly, she wondered if Tiberius was there to give them each a goodnight kiss, and perhaps telling them a story — the one about the wolf who could swim across oceans. They really did love that one.

Perhaps Olive might have been there to witness these things herself, but alas, she hadn’t been home in many hours, her day passed almost entirely in the confines of her arboretum.

Olive said that she was reviewing her stock of dried herbs, whatever she had been able to glean from the last of summer’s abundance before the cold blighted anything soft and green. In truth, she did exactly that, shuffling about different various piles of medicinal supplies until she decided to take a short break. Then, she laid beneath the shadow of a tall pine, ever-growing longer in the dying sunlight.

She didn’t get up again for a good, long while.

Sleep never did take her; she was plagued with thoughts about the northern court. The mother felt guilt over leaving her family, for she believed them to be too young to be without her for long; what's more, she was leaving Tiberius to guide Duskguard all on his own. Sometimes, she wondered if it was only for her own selfish desire that she was to bring Dalmatia along with, under the guise of opening her young mind (but truly so that her mother might have a small semblance of home to hold onto).

It was difficult to look at her small family, knowing she must soon leave them for her duty; so she chose not to look at them at all, and instead hyper-focus on the outcome of the trial, which undoubtedly would have a secondary effect on her family. She was still helping then, wasn't she? Gazing deeply into the shadowed layers of a small gathering of dried mugwort, the woman attempted to scry what the future might hold, as the woman Nikita could. All she saw were shadows.

So Olive settled herself with a knot of burdock root to gnaw upon, to cleanse herself of whatever toxin accumulated in her mind, so that she could be full present with her beloveds when eventually she did come to retire back to the warmth of the nursery.

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His acceptance into the pack had been a fairly, fairly recent one

Navrose had wandered for a short while after, traveling to the northern mountains, finding the mirror lake and the darklings among it—but he'd be sore to forget how she spoke of the wolves who had taken her in when she arrived so unceremoniously to this new land. A matter he desired to handle within his own time, if not only because he wasn't entirely sure there wasn't some clever way to find his way back to his homeland. After the wandering made him weary and brought a marrow deep ache to his bones, and thoughts of Aries returned to the forefront of his mind, it felt inevitable... the decision to seek out Duskguard; a pack he found no issue in crossing into, their arctic ties and the solitude of sorts all the more appealing to a man who found comfort in the furthest corners of the north long before he walked here.

However, his time here being so short and the understanding of how vastly different this world was to his, Navrose would seek out other Duskguardians; slowly picking along, looking intently for anyone he thought would render him richer in information that he'd otherwise be without, and his eyes tuned in on the pale she-wolf busying away with something to chew, he'd approach in light step, tail swaying and whuffing a little to catch her attention. Olive, if memory served him right, the matriarch of this northern solace. "Hello there," he said, finally coming to a stop a good few feet before her, ear giving a little flick. "I hope I didn't intrude," he'd say, shaking his fur a little. "Leader as you are, I do know you're busy... but I couldn't help but know you'd be just the wolf to speak with on the matters of... acclimating here; to Duskguard. It rings far differently than mine does—did, I should say."

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Olive chewed. The root, long dried and hard as a rock, eventually gave way to the pressure and wetness of her back teeth as they ground away, away, away. The passage of time lost its sensation, and Olive lost herself to her anxieties. Leadership came with a price, didn't it, and she was almost certain that this was its epitome. A deep, aching, desire to protect those around her — and an inability to be certain that was possible, even to the best of her and Tiberius's abilities.

Eventually, she was alone no longer. A tall gentleman strode forward, cloaked in the colors of the north. His stature almost reminded her of her father, though she had always come from short stock; but there was pride behind it. Consciously choosing to let go of her anxieties for the moment, the woman offered him a smile and she deposited her wet, chewed root to the side. like a lady.

She had heard of a new member in Duskguard's midst, but hadn't the chance to seek him out. Hadn't the space in her brain, really. Instead he had sought her out, and his reasoning made her feel a little sour that she had not done it first. Intending to make him feel welcome, she chimed "Oh, of course!” to accept his request for conversation, and advice.

"We haven't met yet,” she said somewhat redundantly, as she paddled her forelegs backwards, lifting her torso to sit. "I'm Olive,” she greeted, waving her tail. She always marveled at anyone who managed to make their way to the Vale, and desired to call it home. Certainly the Vale itself was lovely, but the land around it was utterly inhospitable. It took a special wolf to call the tundra home, and for this reason, she cocked her head at Navrose.

"What's your name and... tell me of the place, that rings so differently?”

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