Marrock had finished his conversation concerning more patrols and the doubling of scouts within the vast Fjorn forests when Ylva had sat down next to him to present his sleepy daughter that was nearly knocked out from the food and commotion of the evening.<br/><br/><br/>“Well isn’t that something,” he said as he looked at Avonevah, “I haven’t seen her cuddle and drop into a dead weight for a long time.<i>You must have sort of a touch I guess? </i>Truly I thank you for being so open and hospitable to her. What’s that? Yeah… I ---<i>Yes</i>. That would be a very good idea. ,” he then reciprocated the offer as he pondered the walk back to his hovel. The other wolves simply used that as a que to leave them be and nodded in their agreements concerning the guard.<br/><br/>Marrock stood up along with Ylva and the two and led the way out of the great hall, opening the door to the warm air outside as it was a clear night. The fragrance from Ylva was enriching to his senses and he seemed to be enjoying a strange calm from it.<br/><br/><br/>“<i>Are you sure you don’t recognize the smell of moon flowers and lilacs</i>?” He then had to ask, “It’s simply permeating from you --- perhaps I must have scratched my nose upon some flower or bush I’m most likely allergic too back in the forest,”<br/><br/><br/>Marrock led her to the first foot bridge to the next life tree limb where a band of fairies made a small series of huts against one of the kudzu vines that wrapped around a support post. The small creatures made figure eights around the two with a trailing of sparkling gold dust that seemed to flake and evaporate as soon as it was expelled.<br/><br/>“We probably should take what I call the long way…,” he said with a slight smirk, “Going the normal way will pass by the Hunter and Castaway Hovels… its… the end of a large feast and… well they are a wild bunch and I’d much rather avoid uncomfortable situations where upon I’ll be forced to explain to Ylva why the “happy people are twisted up with each other making yelping noises --- are they playing?” ---<i>heh heh heh…I’m not prepared for that yet help me gods</i>… this way passes through the quiet Gias and Fjornlander sections… and their more of the tamer discreet lot,” as he slightly became flushed in his features for such an explanation, particularly to a beautiful new pack member he hadn’t hardly knew too long yet, felt so comfortable as if she had been here for years.<br/><br/><br/>The walk was quite slow and as they passed different hovels, some were congregated outside of their front porches smoking pipes, playing music, enjoying more drinks by small kettle fires, or watching their cubs leap and attempt to play catch with the lighting bugs. When the two passed, everyone gave some form of a greeting whether it was a random howl towards Ylva or paying tribute to Marrock himself, along with cubs running around his feet playing tag and wanting the great Marrock to participate though he would gently turn them down.<br/><br/><br/>They soon came to the next walking bridge as Marrok first stepped up and their hands finally made contact with each other’s as he was helping Ylva up the steps while attempting to not disturb Avonevah’s now slightly snoring slumber. Ylva’s grip was strong in his palm and although the outside was soft as silk, he could tell her tale held up as her inner palms were rough from heavy use, the mark of a pestle and mortar user, attributed to apothecary and healer’s hands. They were also a female Alpha wolf’s hands as he attempted for a brief second to visualize what her mother was like as she made it up to the top of the next tree level.<br/><br/>“ Healer’s hands,” he then commented with an approving expression, “ I definitely know that no one is ever going to accuse you of not getting down and in the dirt,” he said with a chuckle, “ It’s a good thing ---<i>I think</i>--- just as you helped in that village that our apothecary mistress needs a lot of help as well. That’s part of Basia’s clan but they are open to anyone who has a knack for such gifts so you probably should ask around<a class="link link--external" data-proxy-href="/proxy.php?link=http%3A%2F%2Fguiltypleasuresroleplaying.com%2Fxenforo%2Fx-apple-data-detectors%3A%2F%2F0&amp;hash=09b5fff9c8389fba453781b1c8583206" href="http://guiltypleasuresroleplaying.com/xenforo/x-apple-data-detectors://0" rel="nofollow ugc noopener" target="_blank">tomorrow afternoon</a>… or whenever you wake up. We really don’t have set schedules or anything… sort of like a free-for-all,”<br/><br/><br/>“You know --- it’s very interesting,” he then began to reflect as they walked, “I happened to have come across this hidden valley by chance years ago during my many days wandering after the Great Clan Wars. I was just above the Iron Mountain Peaks of the Dwarfs when this strange song came to my mind. It was the sweetest music you would ever hear I swear --- so much so that I couldn’t get it out of my head. I had attempted to pay no mind by sleeping it off but the next morning, it was as if it was a tune that couldn’t let go. What I found was this great tree that we travel upon now though it didn’t look the same as it does now, obviously with the infrastructure that has since been built --- but it was the strange stone altar located at the west end of the cave where Basia’s hut is located. I had thought when I approached the alter, that it was a door way of some kind but there was no visible key hole or some way you could open the deep seam that splits it in half --- where it happened --- there were a pair of Bearvorines that had cornered Basia --- then not as old as she looks now but silver haired non the least. It was apparent what I had to do and I fought them both off through sheer luck and cunning whereupon I was almost torn to death’s door had it not been for her healing capabilities. When I came too, I was told that it was all an intertwining fate that I had befell upon her impending death and that she had foreseen such an event. Strange isn’t it? She’s almost like a sage grandmother of some kind for me but one thing was for certain, this entire place, how it held just about anything you’d want in terms of establishing a small colony, was right here. I said to myself --- You know…why not just starts a sanctuary here and provide a safe haven for those wandering the wilderness just like I was? One thing led to the next, I met my mate in the process, had Avonevah, and it’s been like this ever since. Well one thing did occur before I forget --- the stone door. It re-acts to me but it does nothing more than light up the old runes that outline the circular pattern of the stone monument… just doesn’t do anything else. Basia insisted that there was something missing to the mystery but after a time… I shrugged my shoulders of it and considered it a mystery that would be solved at its own pace and went about simply helping to establish this place. I go there every anniversary of the valley’s founding and its sort of a festival --- I coined it the ‘<i>Festival of the Vestal Runes</i>’. It was something just to give some established history to the Fjornlanders. So there’s the crash course background as to how this place was generally founded,”<br/><br/><br/>There was a third bridge to step up and cross as he once again helped Ylva to the upper tier branch level in which a long arch that lead to the highest peak of the tree. Marrok’s keep was at the top of the tree with its modest two level hovel that already had a warm fire within its chimney. The front of the hovel had a flight of steps that led to an intricately carved double door. Marrock pushed the doors apart to reveal a very modest but cozy home with a few lounge couches and chairs that adorned where the fire was placed with a small kitchenette in the corner where a full spice and ingredient shelf was seen with a half-cut serving of ham still on the cutting board. There was a small circular wooden table in the corner with an accompaniment of chairs and a stair way that went up to the two bedrooms and the roof top turret tower. There was also a peculiar elven wood stand by the stool close to the hearth with a lovely violin resting in its care.<br/><br/><br/>“Well…home sweet home,” He said as he presented his house to Ylva.<br/><br/><br/>It was clear it had since become devoid of a woman’s touch and in some cases, any female worth their name would be appalled at how things were kept, particularly allowing a piece of chopped ham to just lay there on a cutting board table with a child in the house. There was a large painting by the fire of a golden haired female with green split eyes and a fiery look to her expression and when looking at it, one could not help but believe that the portrait was near alive from its quality.<br/><br/>“Well if you go upstairs to the immediate left,” he said, “Her bedroom is just around the corner, you can’t miss it as it is the only one,” he pointed up the steps, “I trust you --- if you’d like a drink I have some…ehhh… maybe not…” as he looked at empty glasses that were left on the counter and not taken out to be washed.