Wet, soggy earth squelched with each step Annabeth took in the flooded fields. Her pale lavender-pink nares lowered to sniff inquisitively at the ground. A soft, worried frown furrowed between her eyes at the strained and weakened roots of the plants. Forced to remain in the hospital during the heavy rainfall that accompanied her arrival, Anna had no idea the damage was this bad. The swamp had weathered the storm better since, well, it was always soggy and wet there. Plus, Anna had a feeling that someone, or something, made sure the hospital remained intact. Though it was difficult for her to be sure since she was incredibly weak and emaciated at that time.

Doggedly, Anna continued to trudge along and take stock of the damage. The healers had released her reluctantly, and gave strict orders to only walk a little ways. She wasn't quite sure how far away she was now... but that couldn't be helped. Anna blushed guiltily, though there was no one around to upbraid her. Surely she wouldn't get into too much trouble... Perhaps she should attempt to wipe off some of the muck before returning to the hospital. Though that wouldn't hide the softly heaving breaths she took, or the obvious sheen of sweat that lingered despite the cool temperatures.

Clearly, Anna had over exerted herself, but did that stop her? No, it rather did not.

Spotting a scrubby bush, Anna's ears perked and she made her way towards it. Here the ground was more solid thanks to the slightly more complex roots. Carefully, she poked and prodded. Propping up stems here, and trimming dead or irreparable branches there. She hummed while she worked and after several minutes passed, realized that someone was accompanying her. Anna peered into the depths of the bush and was surprised to spot a crooked nest where the warbling came from. Gently she extracted the cradle and looked with some consternation at a pair of incredibly indignant, fledgling birds.

"Cheep!"

Anna blinked. The nestling on the right blinked back.

"Cheep, cheep!" It demanded reproachfully.

"I'm terribly sorry I didn't mean to disturb you... only, where are your parents?" Anna inquired, tilting her head worriedly. The rain had stopped quite some time ago and while one nestling seemed perfectly happy to engage in conversation, the second seemed quite lethargic. 

"Cheep!"

Anna sighed at the fledgling and fretfully began to consider the pair. Every couple of years her family would find baby birds without their parents. Usually they were good for the crops, so they would raise and release them when they were ready. Anna thought she knew just about every bird in the region, but these ones were wholly new to her. What did they eat? How old were they? Were their parents truly gone? While she thought, she carefully set the nest on a nearby rock, the only thing that wasn't damp, and covered it with a scrap of cloth. Perhaps if she waited for just a moment the parents would appear...

in sunshine and in shadow

It is a strange feeling he gets, returning to Terrastella for the first time after seeking refuge (fleeing his conscious tells him, less kind) in the Night Court. It is mingled sorrow and relief, saltwater to both soothe and burn. Everything he has come to know about the court has been remade; trees that were landmarks have been uprooted and washed away, hills have reshaped by mudslides, fields are pocked with sinkholes.

He wonders how it might ever recover.

Asterion has come alone for this - not even his companion Cirrus is with him. The gull is not too far - she rarely is - but he had wanted no company as he took stock of the wreckage.

Bleak, bleak, bleak - but a spring sun is shining overhead all the same.

Near the swamp it looks a little more normal, but there is still a despairing pang in the king’s heart as he notes the floodwaters, the way everything is brown, water and mud and bare branches.

As Annabeth had, the bay stallion hears the noise first; when he turns toward it he wonders how he could have missed the mare, for she is the brightest thing about the day.

He catches her words as he approaches, and his searching gaze goes to the extracted next, the pink and grey birds within.

“If they’ve made it this far, I think they’ll be alright,” he says, and he isn’t sure whether it sounds more comforting or grim.

He hopes the former, as he glances again at the unicorn, noting the dampness of her hide and the shine of her dark eyes. Under normal circumstances he might ask her what’s wrong, but he hardly has room to talk; his own ribs are thin as winter branches, and all the star-shine is gone from his coat. The past weeks have weathered him, and he is no less lean or weary for his time in Denocte.

So he says nothing of her condition, only steps softly closer, not too near either her or the birds but enough to get a better look at all of them. After a moment’s consideration (one hatchling considering him balefully, the other with eyes gleaming and eager) the bay glances back toward the girl, wearing a slim smile. “I have a friend who may be able to help,” he says, and sends a silent thought to Cirrus. Come. I need your expertise.

As the gull wheels her way from over the sea, his attention goes again to the dun.

“I never thought much of the wildlife in Terrastella until the storms.” He sighs, thinking of the otters that he had helped Israfel rescue from the rapids, the creatures who sought shelter in the castle itself, and the endless group of gophers. “It was narrow-minded of me. This is their home as much as ours.”

And they are all suffering and surviving together.



@Annabeth :)