Ni'Srilan: The Desert: strandwolf ;

She had never heard such kind thoughts.

Maybe it is because her thoughts seem to drown out the good ones? Maybe it was because she didn’t believe the words of the Diadem. She sighs and looks over to the mountains, to the sea. There are thoughts that seem so old now raging in her head. Of being stolen, of a Nyota that was so young and innocent, of Kale, of a Sea that eluded her. Strandwolf’s thoughts wash over her like her Diadem’s water and she closes her eyes and breathes.

Wonder what Hypatia will think about it. The Naphtha laughs as she moves towards Standwolf’s coming. Hypatia had seen worse, especially in the minds of her people, and as she moved through Strandwolf’s mind, the look of others as they see him, a reflection in the pond. He speaks then, and she comes back to herself. Kail is at her side, weaving between her legs nimbly, the Diadem flashing on his mane.

“Of course, Strandwolf. I always watch.” Her voice is warm and inviting, as she crests the dune a warm wind brushes against her mane and blows it before her dark, fiery eyes. Her elements are subdued for now as she approaches. Her eyes scan over his body and concern lingers while she looks at his awful scar. “What happened?” She sees Althea and Hybrid, and the shock and horror on their faces. She sees fear (she doesn’t count Baraqel).

“I should have come sooner, Strandwolf.” Her muzzle reaches out towards his shoulder, not reaching because she is simply too far away. “I can heal it, or at least some of it. It’s been awhile though…” Hypatia drops her eyes and a small smile lifts her lips.