BLOOD OF INNOCENTS BURNING IN THE SKIES —
She tilts her head to the side, expression pensive, ears twitching this way and that. The early sunlight catches upon her ear cuff, and the rosy gold burns bright, like a band of fire. The wind picks up, carrying a sound only she can hear.
'Ristarë.' The voice is gentle and melodic. Esme lets herself relax, the familiar murmur bringing her some much-needed comfort. 'Hello, Mother,' she responds telepathically.
'I cannot linger, my sweet daughter, and I am sorry. The Windlord has given me two minutes.' Her mother sounds worried, and Esme's smile fades. 'What is wrong? We won the Last Battle, there shouldn't be anything else...' She sensed, rather than saw, Nienna's gesture for silence. 'There is nothing wrong... but we worry about you. We cannot see your future anymore, and any contact with you is limited by our distance. I wanted to check on you.'
Being a mother herself, Esme understands perfectly. 'I will take care of myself,' she assures the Lady of Mercy. Her mother begins to respond, but the wind dies down, and the connection is lost. The dire wolf sighs, and turns towards the east, where the Sun has completely cleared the horizon.
Esme stands, and begins to trace her steps back to camp.