Olvar was washing out the wound with water when Ojuk howled. It was a grungy, rough sound, not one he commonly made, and hearing it outside of battle made it sound foreign and odd. Three short howls that sounded more like wailing, followed by longer notes. “Ojuk! Quiet!” he ordered, but paused when Gemma silenced he and Gaea. Silence sat between them all, broken finally by a reply from the hills. When one of the cries became two figures slipping through the grasses, Olvar tensed.

He stared intently as the monochromatic pair of wolves approached. His eyes narrowed as one of them shifted. Her gaze was intense and unwavering, making Olvar’s shoulders stiffen and his temper stir as she sauntered nearer. Though she and the twins seemed familiar with each other, it did nothing to lessen the hazel-eyed glare of the nymphs’ escort when the female knelt down beside him. His experience with other werewolves wasn’t limited by any means, but he had tried to keep it that way. Whenever he crossed paths with other wolven shifters, the abnormality of his particular curse always seemed to cause a disagreement at best. Bloodshed at worst.

The she-wolf didn’t seem interested in a fight though, despite her constant eye contact. The male she traveled with was even keeping a respectful distance unless called closer. Leaving the chatter for the cousins, the lycan went back to washing out Gaea’s wound with a careful eye on their visitor. He paused again only to accept the salve, eyes locking with Liz’s. “I appreciate his courtesy,” Olvar answered in a low voice.

Until Liz shifted back and disappeared with Krys, the lupundra kept a wary eye on her, salve sitting in his hand. Once they were finally gone, he opened the pouch and sniffed it cautiously. Floral and earthy, but nothing unusual that he could detect. He applied it to Gaea’s wound, though his touch was more akin to a warrior’s than a healer’s, then fetched a fresh rag to wrap it in. That done, he stood, keeping a hand beneath Gaea’s to help steady her. “As long as it doesn’t happen again, you have nothing to be sorry for.” His father’s words, forgotten in his years of bitter anger, but recently resurfaced. It seemed more and more of his parents’ wisdoms were returning to him as his mind trained alongside his body.

As Gaea tested her leg, he observed carefully, noting the tremble in her knee. “Easy.” He caught her with a frown as the step gave way beneath her, holding her up with a hand beneath her arm. If they were to travel like this, they would need a safe path. Ojuk could carry her, but in his current form, Olvar’s heightened senses were still only half as good as his mount’s. “Hold on,” he told Gaea, easing her back to the ground. He beckoned Gemma over, lacing his fingers to create a step to boost her up. “Stay on Ojuk’s back. The last thing we need is another foot caught in a trap.” With Gemma hoisted up, he went to his warg, rubbing behind the beast’s ears. “Keep an eye out, Ojuk. Let me know if you see danger,” he murmured. The canine grumbled quickly as if in agreement, and Olvar patted his side. “Good boy.”

Returning to Gaea, he once again helped her to her feet, only to crouch and scoop her up onto his shoulder. “‘Scuse me.” One arm held the backs of her knees to keep her from falling, the other gave Ojuk’s hind leg a pat. “Go on, bud. We’ll follow.”

With the warg and one of the twins leading the way, the shifter and the second twin trailed along behind. Olvar walked in silence for a few minutes before deciding to make an attempt at some sort of friendliness. “That she-wolf was a cousin of yours then? Must be a big family if you don’t even know each other by name.” There were many things he had found odd about the conversation in general. “And who’s Angela?”

Gaea watched as he put the salve on her leg. He was rough as was expected but not rough in a bad way. His hands weren’t soft like most healers but again that was expected. Gaea nodded a bit as she was put back down. She took a few short breaths from the stress on her leg.

“Okay, I think I can manage that,” Gemma said as she was hoisted up onto the warg. She rubbed Ojuk’s head and held onto his saddle. “Good boy,” Gemma said after Olvar.

Gaea released a gasp as he hoisted her up onto his shoulder. It wasn’t the worst thing in the world but she was now over his shoulder. It was at least somewhat comfortable. “Very big family actually.” She was considering just how much to tell him and the silence in between her words were showing. “My mother is Angela.” Her answers were short for a little bit longer. “My mother is one of the eight gods of the Conclave. She is the longest reigning Goddess of the Conclave. They call her The Mother. I have over one hundred siblings. All of us have different fathers but the youngest ones who are from my stepfather Adraejen. We have yet to meet him.”

She mused light. “And my mother is one of five. And each of my aunts all have their own families. I have seven cousins from Toya. Four cousins from Cathrine. Three cousins from Lily…. And then there is the Black Court.” She got a bit grim. “There were a lot of them once but my aunt Cyprus decided to gut the majority of my cousins from the Black Court. Now there are only three living cousins out of maybe twenty. This doesn’t count all of my cousins born from my cousins. We don’t talk to my father nor his children… but Gemma and I have been alone for a long time. Our mother takes care of us but she is a busy person. She is a healer and one of the most legendary ones in all of Revaliir.”

Gaea went quiet for a moment. “That probably sounds weird but you would need to be from Arri to understand. Our male to female ratio in Arri is one in eleven. So often most siblings don’t have the same father since we have to go outside of Arri to produce children. As a result… Arri is for women by women. That’s why a lot of the slave trade is up near the desert. That’s also why the traps are made for the weaker of us. Physically… Gemma and I are nowhere near the strength of other Rosenites. If you were wondering what the other half of us was… It’s that. A special race formed in the desert. Our floral smell comes from them and not from our status as nymphs. That’s probably more than you wanted to know though about us.”

There was a laugh from the half-nymph. “You should see Arri sometime… It is so beautiful once you get past the desert… It is home.” After a few more minutes she thought about it. "What about you Olvar? You have any family?"

Olvar’s skepticism kicked in the instant he heard the word “Conclave”. He certainly believed that Gaea and Gemma were related to whatever beings might make up the thing, but his belief in the power of those beings was questioning at best. Blame the mind of a simple farmer, but anyone could call themselves a god if they had enough magic at their back. They were no different than anyone else. Still, he listened, giving an occasional nod or grunt when appropriate. At the conclusion of her tale, he hummed lightly. “I don’t envy you the complexity of your family tree,” he commented, shifting to the right as the trail narrowed in front of him.

There was more to the twins than what would meet the eye at a glance, from their origins to the more unusual details, such as their floral smell. Though his travel in his homeland had been extensive, he’d avoided most people, and so the basis of his knowledge came from stories from his mother. One of her favorites had been the Rosenites. If given the chance, he was sure she would have visited the deserts they called home in DaeLuin. “I’m sure I’ll end up there at some point in my travels. Why are men so rare in Arri?”

When his question was turned back on him, his answer was quick and practiced. “Not here.” After a few seconds, he frowned. He wasn’t sure if he wanted to give away much about his roots to someone he’d only met today. Then again, Gaea had given her share. It was only fair. “Most of my family is gone. We lived in another land, on a farm outside of a city called Mooncrest. We grew crops to feed ourselves, but most of our coin was made through our horses. My father and mother raised the four of us: my sister, my brothers, and I.” He took a moment to gather his thoughts, adjusting her position over his shoulder to mask to pause. “If my brother still lives, then the two of us remain. If he’s gone, then it’s only me. I’ve no way of contacting him though; he’s still in DaeLuin.”

Ahead, Ojuk let out a growl and skirted to the left, easing a foot or so off the path. Olvar mirrored the warg, following his detour around what he assumed to be another hidden trap. “Who is this we’re searching for in the rainforest? Another cousin of yours?”