Dawn spun her staff as she walked, its form little more than a blur. Her eyes darted from curiosity to curiosity, never resting on any one thing for too long.<i>Aviari.</i>The staff spun faster.<i>Visions.</i>She didn’t like visions. She could use magic, but she’d never seen any visions. She’d travelled far, and met many people, but those who had claimed to<i>see</i>were blind. The air hummed around the sleek wood.<br/><br/>She stopped in the middle of the stone circle, her staff suddenly silent. “I will climb,” she said, leaving no room for debate in her tone. She approached one of the towering trees and rested her head against the rough bark. “May I borrow you?” After a moment, she gave it a small smile and slipped out of her boots, stuffing them sole-up in her pack. She pressed one bare foot to the side of the tree, gave a little nod, and then began to walk. Only instead of forward, she went up.<br/><br/>The Aviari village unexpectedly stole the breath from her chest. She’d seen many villages of many peoples, but none of them were quite like this. The buildings seemed like they were spun out of the trees themselves - and maybe, she mused, they had been. If the Aviari shamans really<i>did</i>have visions, maybe they could command the trees, as well. Maybe the vibrant, pink-blossomed trees had been<i>spun</i>in the same way.<br/><br/>Dawn stared right back at the curious Aviari, cocking her head slightly to one side. They were certainly... open. Even their feathers did little to conceal them from her gaze, but they did not shy away from her. She could<i>feel</i>their curiosity burning around her like a torch. By the way their gazes darted between her, the dark elf’s breasts, and Verita, she could tell they were wondering just how different they were - not only from Aviari women, but from each other, as well. She rolled her eyes; they could wonder all they liked. But the little flush in her cheeks gave away that she’d entertained the thought.<br/><br/>The moment the pink women offered food, she stopped listening entirely. She hadn’t eaten anything since the night before, and<i>that</i>had just been some trail mix. When had she last had a<i>real</i>meal? She couldn’t remember. She didn’t care if there was no meat - food was food. “Food,” she said simply, and followed the pink birds.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>