It is dusk in Rephidim. The last golden rays of sunset filter through the horn windows of the shop as Zoltan and the Savanite mage, Third-Eye tuck their two cubs into bed.

Outside, a Savanite comes running along the street, a paper wrapped package held tightly under one arm. She wears simple Temple robes, and a scarf around her neck. The slave's red hair seems more like a brown, in the gloom. Her pace slows as she approaches the Shiny Shoppe, then she slips through the door and pauses inside to catch her breath.

Jezebel walks over to another pad where another cub that they've "adopted" sleeps quietly – the winged jaguar, Taliamelle. Then, she walks out into the store, to do simple clean-up chores and make herself useful in an oh-so-domestic way.

Leeta stands with her back against the main door, panting. Her hands clutch tightly around her package as her sister comes in. She tries to slow her breathing down.

Zoltan pulls himself to his feet and follows out after Jezebel. His ears perk at the sound of an incoming customer and he pokes his head out from the curtains.

Jezebel looks up from sweeping, wiping a dangling curl of dark hair away from her eyes.

The Vartan quietly creeps out from behind the curtain, careful not to wake the people sleeping inside. "Hello." he squawks softly.

The red-maned Savanite just watches her sister, not sure what to do and still feeling twinges and dark thoughts. Leeta thinks of her fire, glowing in front of her, and signs. "Hello."

Jezebel nods in Leeta's direction, then returns to her sweeping, as if there were nothing particularly special going on.

Zoltan looks at the package in Leeta's arms, then looks questioningly back up at Leeta.

"Hello Zoltan." She holds the package against her front with one arm, then adds, "Hello Third-Eye."

The broom clacks to the floor with a rap. She snorts, then stoops down and picks it up again.

"Did you come to play with cubs?" Zoltan signs. "They asleep right now."

Leeta shakes her head, "No, it's something else, not for the cubs. I… " She looks down at the package in her hands. "I need you to do something, Third Eye."

Jezebel looks up at Leeta, an annoyed expression on her face. She sets the broom aside. "What is it?" she signs.

Zoltan winces, his feathers stand on end just a tad. He looks around suspisciously to see if there's any other customers in the store.

Presently, Nicodemus has the other customers, an elderly Vartan couple, looking at a new selection of imported baubles, clear across the store.

Zoltan steps forward and kneels down in front of Leeta, he points to the curtained room in the back.

The red-haired Savanite starts to reply, then looks over at the other customers and returns to holding the package with both hands. She nods to Zoltan, and tucks the parcel under one arm, then goes through the curtans.

Zoltan nods to Jezebel and follows after Leeta. As soon as he's through the curtains he taps her on the shoulder to get her attention.

Jezebel catches the idea, and goes back, taking the broom with her, putting it to one side as soon as she's past the curtain.

Leeta just waits, standing by the wall, her hands clenching and unclenching slowly on the wrapped item. Small crinkling noises the only sound.

The Vartan quietly unfolds his wings and uses them to sheid his signs, as if afraid the very walls might be watching. He spproaches Leeta and signs very quickly, "Why not just call her 'Marked-One' in front of everyone? Is just as bad as using her real name in public. Please be careful."

Jezebel sits down on a stool, leaning her back against the wall, her tail curling about her. Her eyes are obscured in shadow underneath her wild curls in the modest lighting of the back area.

Leeta bows her head at the Vartan's signs, {I didn't see them in the shadows. Oh Star, I shouldn't have come. Please… for them.} Her hands clench again on the soft parcel, and she steps forward, putting it on the table.

"They need their place in the Procession," Fire-Mane signs.

Zoltan refolds his wings and steps back to stand next to Jezebel.

Jezebel looks at the table, her mouth forming a frown, though her eyes are still obscured, and her expression blunted. She signs, "What do you mean?" not knowing the contents of the parcel.

Leeta raises her hands to explain, then just blinks at the emptiness. Her signs can't show what needs to be told. "Just open it… it is very wrong."

Zoltan looks to Jezebel, then to the package. He takes a step towards the table and reaches out towards the wrappings with a taloned finger.

Jezebel frowns, looking as if she's about to reach out for the package, but defers to Zoltan, watching him with some degree of apprehension, though for what reason why, she does not sign.

Zoltan reaches out and tears the package open. He just stares at the contents for a moment, then rips it open the rest of the way as if disbelieving.

The red-maned Savanite waits, she knows what is inside. Time, and hiding it has blunted her reactions. Concentrating on it as people, and not what they have been made into, helps. The coat still sends a coldness into her.

Jezebel moves forward, her features slowly more clear in the light. She looks at the "coat" with tearless eyes … stone-cold eyes, with too restrained a look that suggests not apathy but more a determined effort not to care.

"They need their place in the Procession," Leeta signs again, as the horrible Savanite coat is revealed. "I don't know the rituals, Third-Eye, you have to do it for them."

"Where did you find horrible thing?" Zoltan signs, his ears plastered against his head.

Third-Eye nods, again the shamaness, sitting up straight, with a plain face, looking as if she were holding court or some ceremony or audience. She signs, "It is only just. Did you know this one?"

Leeta signs, "An assassin was wearing it. I took it after she failed. I don't know who it was."

Third-Eye signs, "May I examine it?"

Leeta nods, her hands clenching against each other.

Zoltan restrains a growl for the sake of waking up his children. He inhales slowly. "Tell me what you need for ritual," he signs to Jezebel. "I go gets it."

Fire-Mane stares at Third-Eye, looking for something beyond her cold expression. The coat has been with her for over a month, and still brings tears when she really thinks about it. Shock in her sister she could understand, but nothing? {Oh Star, doesn't she feel?}

Third-Eye signs, "We have no name to present to the Procession. That is unfortunate. But I have all we will need … except an open and secure place to perform the ritual in. We cannot use haut Mikide's garden."

Zoltan signs, "I know spot out in countryside. Can fly both of you there easily. Just give me moment to ask Master to watch cubs for me while I gone. I wish Twilight-Wing no leave… he make better babysitter."

"Fly?" Leeta signs, the Vartan is huge, but… "You can lift two and still fly?"

Jezebel signs, "Is that wise?" She looks between Zoltan and Leeta.

"I carried two before." He looks at Jezebel for a moment, recalling the time when he carried her and Jynx out of the fire at the village in the Savan. "Vartans is strong, and Savanites is light."

The fire-haired Savanite nods, still surprised, but waiting. She keeps looking her sister over, comparing what she sees in her now, with what she knew. She starts to bow her head unconsiously.

Zoltan signs, "I leave it up to you. I can fly you to countryside. We can probably find place in forest where nobody see."

Jezebel stands up. "I will gather what I need." Without waiting, she heads back to go through her belongings.

Zoltan nods and also vanishes for a moment to let Nicodemus know of his departure. He hopes the old Cervani/Vartan won't mind watching the cubs.

Leeta watches after them both, a sinking feeling inside. {Maybe Moon-Brow was right, maybe nothing has changed.} She looks down at her feet, her tail hanging limply behind her, and just waits for them to return.

Her hands sign, "Sister… sister… " as she keeps them pressed together against her Temple robes.

The Vartan reappears. "All set. I hope you not have sharp claws? I think I had enough of riders that cling with them." He goes over and picks up his backpack and carefully places the coat inside.

"No, I keep my claws quite dull," Leeta signs, waiting to follow Zoltan.

Jezebel signs, "Like most Savanites, mine are never sharp in the first place. But then … some of us are just blessed."

Zoltan shoulders his pack, but doesn't fasten it shut yet. He turns around and offers Jezebel the extra space to put her own things in there as well. "One thing you should know. Both of you goings to have to hold on tight when I fly. Would be best if you also held on to each other in case one of you fall. This not quick glide… this going to be long flight."

Jezebel frowns openly, casting a sidelong glance at Leeta.

Leeta isn't sure what to make of that, her claws were something her sisters teased her about, when it wasn't her red hair. Her fingers flex at the Vartan's words, {Hold onto Third Eye?} and she returns an equally unhappy expression at Jezebel.

Zoltan frowns even more. "You sisters. Could try and act like it little bit. If I hold onto you on own I eventually going to get tired of supporting whole weight in arms and I drop one of you."

Fire-Mane nods, then signs, "I'm ready. I will."

Jezebel squints at Zoltan, then nods. "So be it," she signs, with a shrug of resignation.

{Oh Star, don't let me drop her. If one of us falls let it be me, at least I won't have to live with it.} Leeta looks at the Vartan, "So… we leave from the back?"

Zoltan whistles something to Jezebel and exits the room, heading for the back alley. Usually a good place to take off from. He fastens his pack shut and unfolds his wings… flexing them in preperation for the flight.

Jezebel follows behind, occasionally shooting glances to Leeta as if making sure she's coming along.

The red-maned Savanite follows her darker-haired sister into the back, then stands a little unsure. Approaching Zoltan, "How should we hold each other?"

As he finishes his stretches, the Vartan kneels and holds out his arms to the two Savanites. He looks almost like he's beckoning them into a group hug or something.

Jezebel's tail lashes, but she walks forward, up to the Vartan. "I trust you," she signs to Zoltan, though for what reason – to tell him something or herself – she doesn't explain further.

Leeta looks up at the sky overhead, then signs, "Hold tight," to Zoltan, or Jezebel, or both as she steps within the black bird's grasp. She feels just a little uncomfortable as she presses against his feathers, nothing that compares with how she feels as she reaches for her sister though.

"Grab onto strap of pack with arm facing outward," Zoltan scrawks. "Other arm hold onto each other with."

Fire-Mane slides her arm through the strap, crossing over it and holding tightly. She reaches out and hesitates, then slides her other arm behind Third-Eye, her hand clenching in her sister's clothes.

Jezebel follows suit, making her face as stone-cut as she can manage.

Leeta adjusts her hold, pulling her sister a little closer. {Please… }

Zoltan nods and puts an arm around the waist of each Savanite. "Take off roughest part… if you feel like you goings to get sick, bark or yell or bites shoulder or something. Try no to grab my shoulders, flight muscles shake you hands off. Pack much better." He pulls himself to his feet, dangling the pair in his arms and then unfolds his wings again.

Jezebel nods absently, then just buries her face into black feathers.

The Vartan tenses and squats down. He sits there for a moment as he judges the wind, and then suddenly leaps upwards, his wings slamming down on the air and sending a blast of wind at the ground below. . o O ( Hopefully people will just think I'm transporting slaves. )

Leeta presses her face against Zoltan's shoulder, {Maybe if I just let go, it would be better. It would be all over.} She dries her eyes on his feathers, holding tight as he lurches into the air.

The flight takes the trio out to the merchant's quarters, over the Bazaar, and many other buildings during the long flight. They fly over the Temple as well, which seems to be showing a great deal more activity than usual. There are several guards and Zelaks outside who seem to be hunting the area around the temple, a few Kavis have been stopped in the street and look to have been either arrested or are being questioned. Before more can be discerned though the Temple zooms out of view. Zoltan's grip on the two Savanites eases up a bit as he begins to slowly tire. His eyes stay glued to the ground below as he tries to find a secluded spot for the ritual.

Leeta's feelings go from bad to worse during the flight. She knows the temple, if that much is going on, something must have happened. She stops looking down after the initial fascination of the height, and just concentrates on holding onto Zoltan and Jezebel.

Jezebel has freed her eyes from Zoltan's feathers, too. She sees the activity below, and dares follow it for a while … until vertigo tickles her nerves, and she clutches a little more tightly to her companions in flight.

Slowly the buildings give way to trees and plants. Zoltan drops altitude and scans the ground more closely now. His wingtips brush against the treetops on a downbeat as he circles around to inspect a piece of ground. He nods to himself and readjusts his flight, squawking loudly, "Landing is second worst part of flying… hold on!" The perspective of the two Savanites changes abrubtly as the Vartan flips upright, aiming his hooves towards the ground and sending another blast of wind downwards with his feet. A few moments later there's a rough jolt as Zoltan lands. He gently releases his two passengers.

Jezebel stumbles, trying to regain her legs. She collapses unceremoniously on her tail, her hair falling in her face. She growls.

Leeta lets go, her hands and arms stiffly releasing, as she looks at Jezebel and Zoltan.

Zoltan, this time does not stoop to help Jezebel. He looks at Leeta for a brief moment and then colapses sideways, panting heavily.

Fire-Mane holds out her hand, looking at her sister's eyes.

Jezebel looks at Leeta for a moment, then gets back up on her own, tail lashing, adjusting her hair and her skirts. She then walks over to Zoltan, and unfastens the pack from his back, setting it aside.

Zoltan looks up at Jezebel with tired eyes. He shakily puts his hand to his chest on the spot where the Savanite had buried her face.

Jezebel's indignation melts, and she leaves the pack, walking back to Zoltan, dropping to her knees beside him.

Leeta sits down on the ground. She stares at the spot between her feet. {I shouldn't have come. Something has happened, Tahir might need me and I'm not there for him. Third-Eye doesn't care, and I can't… I just can't hold it together much longer. Oh Star.}

Zoltan moves his hand to touch Fire-Mane's tears, still moist on the feathers of his chest. He takes Third-Eye by the wrist and wipes the moistness off in the center of her hand. His eyes look from sister to sister, they seem almost pleading.

Jezebel looks from Zoltan back toward Leeta, holding hand to cheek.

"You are… sisters," Zoltan croaks out, his voice hoarse from the dry wind buffeting his throat. He folds his arms around his chest and swallows.

Fire-Mane growls, then barks, her hands shaking in hard, rough signs at Jezebel, "WHY! WHY! WHY! Don't you sign something! Why don't you feel anything. Why are you so far away… " {Why don't you love me? Why aren't you trying?}

Jezebel's hands drop. Her face undergoes a battle between a reflexive appearance of indignation and anger … and some other emotion that only muddles the effect, not strong enough to define itself.

Leeta grabs onto the grass with her hands, because everything else is slipping away again. She just stares at the ground, choking on her sobs.

Zoltan struggles to sit upright. He whispers something to Jezebel and urges her to go to Leeta with his eyes.

Jezebel glances sideways at Zoltan with a charged look open to interpretation, then, with a deliberateness that speaks as if she is consciously willing herself through each movement, she rises back to her feet … and walks toward Leeta.

Zoltan wipes at an eye with a trembling hand. ( Please… )

Leeta growls, and cries, not looking up, just looking at her own hands signing, "Cloud-Mark is changed. Moon-Brow is changed. I never see dadee or Long-Lope so I don't know if they've changed, but you're the same." She claws at the grass between sentences. "You still don't… "

Jezebel pauses a moment, then drops down, throwing her arms around her kneeling sister.

Leeta slides her arms around Jezebel, holding her tighter than she did during the flight. Her hands clench into her clothes, and she sobs on her sisters shoulder.

Jezebel embraces her sister, cradling her, although it's a bit awkward, since she's acting as if she were comforting a much younger (and smaller) sister from a time long ago in a way she never did, when now they are not quite so different in stature anymore.

Zoltan just sits there quietly and watches. This is not his reunion… even if it is his family, so to speak.

Fire-Mane holds onto her sister, her hands twisting against the other Savanite's back. Signs that never quite form, but pass close to "love you Third-Eye", unformed because she can't let go enough to make them, so she just holds…

Jezebel sniffles, her two visible eyes turning red, and she's got that disturbing trickle running down her brow. Normally, she'd worry that someone would see … but right now she just doesn't care. When she feels the half- formed signs … she just falls apart, her shoulders shaking, losing any composure to have a chance at making a reply.

The Vartan sniffs loudly as tears flow freely from his eyes, their trail down his face seems almost remiscient of Savanite tearmarks. He slowly unshoulders his pack and gently sets it beside him.

Leeta clings to Third-Eye, letting all the years of hate wash out. She doesn't need to see a sign to know, she can feel it. She holds her sister up, as her tears free her.

Jezebel cries. Nothing special, nothing really can be said about it. She just cries.

Leeta's tears take a long time to come out, tears enough for all the years she's been a slave, and even some of the ones before that. They finally start to dry and she lets go of Third-Eye enough to look at her. At the scarred, changed face of the older sister she once was terrified by, but never stopped thinking of.

Third-Eye looks surprised and even a little afraid as Leeta pulls away, only belatedly looking back. She recoils a bit, bringing her hands up to sign, "I am who I was. I can't change the past. Never."

The light of the Procession glints briefly off of the silver pendant around Jezebel's neck, as it dangles upon the chain that was so painstakingly polished by Zoltan's mentor.

Leeta gently reaches over, pushing up the headband that hides her sister's namesake. "Please… don't pull away. Don't close yourself off, not again."

Zoltan sniffs again and wipes at his eyes. Part of him wants to rush up and embrace the pair, and another part reminds him that although he had his part in this… the moment belongs to Jezebel and Leeta. So he just sits there quietly, feeling the joy swell in his chest.

Jezebel's ears flick back as the headband slips away to reveal the faintly glowing eye … pale white in the center, but gradiating to a faintly sickly pink at the edges. Its appearance is on such a fine line between beauty and ghastliness.

Leeta just smiles, hoping. Her sister's namesake was always just a unique and beautiful part of her. The doubt, fear, and anger always focused on what Third-Eye had done, not how she looked. She stares into the eyes that she can, of someone she's missed for a long time.

Third-Eye, Jezebel, Third-Vision … Big sister gathers her resolve, and lifts one hand, signing in formal, in deliberate, single word-signs, "Love … you … sister." She bites her lip so hard that it might bleed, and it has scars enough already.

Fire-Mane nods, one hand closing around the signing one, to hold her tight as she replies with the other, "Love you sister." Full signs, where her sister can see them, unmistakable.

Jezebel pulls up one hand, wiping at her eyes, then signs with it shakily, "Careful, sister. You will start me crying again! My head is hurting already." She tries to look serious and stern, but fails miserably. She sniffles, then snorts and covers her muzzle with a mouth. Her momentary 'laughter' soon shakes into more tears, as if she just can't make up her mind what to feel over this.

Zoltan grabs a handful of ferns and dabs his face with them. Slowly he pulls himself up to his hoofed feet.

Leeta's ears wiggle as happiness shows on her face. Her eyes shine bright in the darkness, cleared of her tears. "I'll try not to. You look much nicer when you smile." She looks over at the Vartan, and up at the procession, then back at her sister. "Someone else still has to find their family."

Jezebel gasps, catching her breath in chokes, staggering back as she finds she can't maintain her awkward kneeling position for too long. Her composure was compromised long ago, and she just focuses on catching her breath for now, before at last giving Leeta a curious look.

Jezebel sniffles, wiping at her eyes, which are all a bit pink around the edges from crying now, and signs, "What do you mean?"

The Vartan bends down and picks up his pack, hugging it to his chest.

Jezebel's ears blush. "Of course," she signs, getting up.

Zoltan coughs a bit and frees up one hand from its deathgrip on the pack. "You need me help with anything?" he signs, smiling softly.

Leeta nods, standing up as well, still feeling a little weak from all her emotions.

"Could you… " She starts to sign, then stops to look at Jezebel to see if Zoltan is needed.

Jezebel smiles faintly, then signs, "Thank you … but I'll manage. I don't think you can dance. This is my responsibility." She heads over toward the pack, to look for her materials.

"… find out what is going on at the Temple?" Leeta finishes.

Zoltan gently hands the pack to Jezebel and nods to Leeta. "I be back in little whiles." He bows to the pair and takes off into the air, sending their hair blowing back by the downdraft of his wings.

Jezebel sets out a candle – this one a "real" one, unlike her usual black-burning incense for magical rituals. She doesn't make any magic circles or any such thing. She just works on lighting the candle for a source of light to work with … and a source of fire for later. She looks for a bare spot of earth, and for some dry wood, and begins putting together a fairly small 'pyre'.

Leeta watches carefully, not knowing the ritual at all. It is just another thing she was never told or taught. "Is there anything I can do to help? Get some wood?"

Jezebel looks at her pathetically small pile of wood, especially after she has to pick out the pieces that just aren't dry enough … and she looks to Leeta and nods. "Wood" she flashes a single formal sign for, quickly returning to her work.

Fire-Mane nods, and starts exploring the nearby forest, looking for anything she can find that is dry and can burn. She doesn't go any great distance, and tries to watch her sister whenever possible. She returns with an armful of wood after some searching.

Jezebel looks fairly impressed at Leeta's success, then habitually – and without thinking – tries to stifle it, as she returns to serious work again. She pauses, then, turning and signing, "Thank you."

Leeta watches the expressions cross her sister's face, so much like her own slave posturing that shows when she isn't thinking. She watches the ritual preparations. "I just want to help. I can dance better than the Vartan."

Jezebel is looking away, but her ears wiggle. She works on coaxing the pyre into a small blaze … hopefully just enough for what's needed, without attracting anyone's attention.

The other Savanite looks down at the flames, thinking of her namesake. {The Star sent you to me Coat, because I would be able to send you on. Just like the fire will.}

Third-Vision moves back, standing up straight, closing her eyes, listening to the bits of moisture in some of the wood pop and crackle, sending sparks into the air, smelling the smoke intermingled with the scents of the night's air outside of the city limits, borne upon a light breeze that sways the branches in the trees, and might stir up the very stars themselves, it could seem at a moment like this, if it blew just hard enough. She removes the headband and her collar, setting them aside, being the shamaness Third-Vision for now, not Jezebel, not the pawn of nobles or ship captains.

Fire-Mane reaches around to remove her own collar, its colours still hidden under her scarf. As she touches it her thoughts go to the one who gave it to her. {Please Star, let him be safe.} She rests it on the ground as well, feeling no different with it removed.

Third-Vision takes another deep breath, reaching for the clasp of the silver necklace … then pausing, running a finger over the pendant, lost in thought. She shakes her head faintly. She leaves it, then looks to Fire-Mane, signing, "It is not difficult. I will show you the steps. There is no magic needed from us. And the signs are simple." She goes through the formal signs, an archaic arrangement, not following full grammar, boiling it down to just the basic nouns and verbs, and even those are ambiguous except for context. Nonetheless, it paraphrases as, "You are not bound by this world. You came from the stars to the earth, and now you go to the Star again. And, some day, so shall we, and dance together once more, in the great Procession." It fits into many fewer signs than the full words might suggest.

Fire-Mane memorizes the signs, watching them carefully. "I'll be able to follow along. I'm ready." She stands opposite her sister across the pyre, the breeze flickering her mane in a way that mimics the flames in front of her.

Third-Vision nods, bobbing her hand in a cadence like the sisters would when they were cubs, on those particular occasions when they could co-exist long enough to share a dance … and then they start. It's a slow dance … and in some ways that can be easy, others hard, but a ritual like this is for the young, the old, the lithe … and the not-quite-lithe-at-all. Nonetheless, that is not to belittle the moment or its meaning.

Fire-Mane follows the beat, her body remembering things she long forgot. She sways, her motions mirroring her sister's as she puts all her attention in it. She gives to the slave the respect that was absent in that life, and after, letting her body move through the steps and signs.

The dance continues for a few circles, and then it is time for the shamaness to break away from the dance. Normally, there would be many dancers, and some helpers as well to move the body … but the 'body' is no such burden in this instance. Now that the fire has gotten to a full blaze, she ceremoniously lifts up the pelt, and gets dangerously close as she commits it to the fire, sending up a shower of sparks. Third-Vision returns to the circle, taking her place opposite the solitary other dancer … and watches each time she circles about, to see how the sparks and tendrils of smoke are curling about as well, forming, with some imagination, the movements of another dancer on his or her way upward to the Procession.

Fire-Mane also watches the unnamed Savanite dance up into the night sky, a weight leaving her as she sees their spirit freed. She keeps the dance alive in the circle, matching her sister around the flames. {Go to the Star my friend, it has been too long for you.}

Zoltan quietly re-emerges through the trees to join the pair. He had landed a short distance away so as not to disturb things. The Vartan keeps back and quietly watches. He has never seen Jezebel dance before.

The dance asks for a name, and for events of the departed's life to be remembered in the steps and signs. Fire-Mane has none of these to give, but finds what she can. Her movements speak of the bravery and resolve she found through this stranger. The warning of hidden dangers, and the way this unknown Savanite helped heal the rift between two sisters. She dances all this, announcing to the procession the deeds of the one who is joining them.

Third-Vision continues … and at last signals Fire-Mane to let the dance draw to a close – at least, their small part in it. Third-Vision is visibly exhausted. After all, she may have to deal with rambunctious cubs … but she's not forever running across the Temple and half of the city on errands.

Fire-Mane lets her dance draw to a close, stopping and looking up at the sparks vanishing into the night sky. She pants, but not heavily, and looks down at the embers then up at the procession once more. {Goodbye, unknown dancer.}

The Vartan keeps quiet from his seat near the trees. A ritual for a mute race should not be interrupted by his squawkings afterall… and he's not quite sure exactly when the ritual is over.

"Thank you, sister; that needed to be done," Fire-Mane signs to Third-Vision across the fading coals.

Third-Vision pauses a bit, then only nods in reply, and drifts away from the fire. As touching as the moment may be … there is still just no denying that the smell of burning fur is not pleasant.

… and … the whole weight of the atrocity behind it still weighs heavily.

The other Savanite leaves the circle, retrieving her scarf wrapped collar. She just holds it a moment longer, watching the fading glow, thinking about things that are and should not be. The weight of the band reminds her though, and she turns to the black bird.

"They have left us, we are done. Did you find out what was going on?" Leeta signs.

Zoltan seems lost in thought. His soft gaze is fixed on Third-Eye.

Fire-Mane also turns to watch her sister.

Third-Vision takes longer to notice the Vartan for some reason, and is momentarily surprised. She signs, "Zoltan, this is not the jungle like I am familiar with. Will the fire burn out safely by itself here?"

The three-eyed Savanite belatedly notices her sister with her collar returned, and remembers to go back and fetch her own … and the headband. She is paranoid enough, even out in the wilderness, not to leave her Mark unconcealed for any longer than is necessary, and puts the wrought leather headband back into place, fixing her hair.

Leeta reclasps her collar and covers it again with her scarf. A similar paranoia as her older sister, and for similar reasons.

Zoltan shakes his head, as if clearing it out suddenly. "I think it be alright." He glances around to check for anything that might be easily sparked by a stray ember. "Used to camp here lots when I younger. Never burned down forest then."

Jezebel nods tiredly, then signs, "Maybe I should walk back. I don't know if I can handle another flight right now."

"You probably get back by tomorow morning of you walks." Zoltan scrawks, winking.

Leeta signs, "Did you find out what was happening at the Temple, Zoltan?"

Zoltan nods to Leeta. "Could not get specifics. But I ask some guards and Kavi that were nearby. I think someone in Temple was attacked or killed. Was someone important by all trouble they was going through to find person that did it."

Jezebel looks aghast at the news. "Again? How can this be? I have no love for the Temple, but … " She shakes her head. "Can the cubs be safe here?"

"No!" Leeta's worries find her, even in the forest. She stares, her hands flashing, "Zoltan, I have to get back! My friend!"

"We moving soon. Hopefully life on Underside be better to us," Zoltan signs. He turns to Leeta, "I can fly you back… but I need little while to get strength back to make flight for both of you. Could fly you alone, but that mean leaving Third-Eye out here by herself."

Fire-Mane's hands clench, then sign, "Please, sister, can you wait here while Zoltan flies me? I need to know. I should have been there; he's vulnerable and needs me to protect him."

Zoltan's ears flatten. That thought doesn't quite appeal to him. "Just give me few minutes to rest. Drink some water. I can fly you both then. Meanwhile we can walk."

Leeta's anxiety shows in the way her legs clench and her ears flick down. Her hands brush at her robes, fidgiting as she tries to wait. Just running right now, keeps rising to her mind, even though the flight would be faster. She looks again at Jezebel, her eyes showing the deepest kind of worry.

Third-Vision sees Leeta's expression, and shakes her head. "Leave me here, Zoltan. I will stay close to the fire, but I can make myself scarce, if need be. Provided I have time to prepare, no one will be able to find me until I want them to." She smirks, allowing a bit of pride to seep back into her expression.

The Vartan sighs to himself and nods his head. He leans forward and nips the fur on Jezebel's cheek with his beek (Vartans can't kiss afterall.) and then holds his arms out to Leeta. "Hide good," he squawks to the shadow mage.

Fire-Mane gives her sister a tight hug, "Thank you! I'll come see you soon. I just have to leave, I know you understand." She rushes into the Vartan's grasp, tightly holding onto him.

Jezebel smiles weakly, then manages a quaint wave at the departing Vartan and Savanite.

"As quickly as you can, Zoltan," Leeta begs, gripping tight.

Zoltan nods, grips Fire-Mane to his chest and takes off like a bolt upwards… almost as though he's trying to catch one of the stars of the Procession.