#baronyofthesilverwolf

"I wonder if a goat tail shake is similar to a deer's?"

"I mean no disrepect to goats, but I always found a deer tail flick more elegant" Nadeen admits

"There are other tails far nicer, or so it has been said." Says Bluebell, as she peeks in.

"Why thank you, bluebell" She glances over her own rear "It's the aerobics and the horse riding" A smile escapes "or did you perhaps speak of a more cottony one?"

"When we have a tail of tales, the truest test is not in the ownership, but in the admiration. A puff tail is a fine thing to have, but other tails here are admired as well. How fearful it would be, to be chased by a dragon? Why, the fire would scorch my cotton fluff. No, that tragedy shall be yours alone, I fear."

"Hello, Rabbit!"

Nadeenn blushes "I find I like the heat"

"Of course, one would expect such of the Sun." She beams to Dru and gives the Kubera a graceful curtsy. "Hello, Tree!" Smiling in return.

"I shall tell my warren of their cousin here. Is there good news?"

"Oh, yes! The best news. You have come to visit!" Bluebell beams.

Dru claps!

Julius returns with promised haste, and promised plates. Slices of freshly baked pound cake, light and airy, topped with fresh whipped cream and some of the berries, washed and stems plucked, and a drizzle of honey and sprig of new mint on each. The composure of the plates is an art itself, and speaks of Marigold.

And there are plates enough for everyone! And chairs enough, even IF Bluebell seems to find a need to perch upon Julius's lap instead, and steal bites from his fork.

Nadeen ennjoys and delights. She knows well that food has extra flavor when stolen from a paramour

Over cake, Julius, prompted by Nadeen, discusses his ideas, dreams and hopes, for a vinyard of his own. Perhaps a Kubera may find some interest inthis conversation! Perhaps, those dreams are a bit closer then they once were.

(scene!)

Calanthe strides through the hold, the clicking of her heels at a faster pace then usual.

"Julius? Julius!" She searches for him in his office, and the kitchen.

Marigold gives her a surprised look at the tone, tsks softly, and calls over, "You won't find him, even if you call loud enough to wake the titans." The boggan is given a glance back that would melt steel - but the elder lady is impervious to it's effects. "Oh, don't you give me that stinkeye for telling you what's what. He's off on a shopping trip to town. Pickin' up some supplies for a new project."

Calanthe gives an exasperated sigh. Then asks, with noted reluctance, "Nadeen. Is she in residence?"

The boggan steward ponders this. "Well, she was working on paperwork earlier, then met up with that lovely leafy lass, and I haven't seen her in a bit."

Where might Nadeen be, on a lovely sunny, if somewhat warm and humid, Friday afternoon?

In the shade of the garden actually, she's shown it to Dru, and now is doing some of her work out here. She's wearin a light sundress

Calanthe watches her from the kitchen doorway that leads out by way of the herb garden... and hesitates. Before broaching the Baroness, she places a call to a different Varich, one in EarthRunes, and one on decidedly friendlier grounds with the Ailil knight. That is, if sir Sergei is available.

He is!

"Lord of Aeries. Better, having heard your voice." Ensuring no one is within sight, her voice softens - though there is still an edge to it. Something is bothering the knight. "I trust you are well?

"In truth, I had a near scare one of the falcons has caught not a prey, but a cough. I have separated her from the others."

"And you?"

"My raptors are doing marvelously. But it is not they I am concerned for. Pray, have you attended much to the news of late from northern Pacifica?"

"Not I, no. It is the foolish mortals, of course, that endanger us all. The very earth heats and roils while their richest seek to grasp the stars." Irate. "It is the heat wave that has blasted the forested areas past the Western coast. They are calling it a" he can practically see her nose wrinkle in distaste, "Hawk-apocalype. Temperatures have soared unseasonably high for this time of year - it is nesting season for the Coopers and Swainsons. They do not leave their nests until August... they are being literally baked, and nestlings have been throwing themselves from the false safety of their aeries, to try to escape the unyielding sun."

"IS there no effort among the mortals to rescue them?"

“There is.” She admits. “But the best they can do is not enough. They wildlife care centers are not equipped for this sheer number of cases. And… the best they can do is to retrieve the fallen eyases. At that point, it is already too late for many.”

“Thank fare for small favors that there is no fire as of yet. Though fire might spare the tree tops. It’s the heat itself, and the Sun on uncovered nests, scorching to the point where nestlings will jump to to seek relief.

I do not know your Baroness. Rumor of most Fiona would have most more interested in personal ‘mounts’ than in any wild hawks. But if she is able to assist…”

“I had thought to go myself. With some of my Hawks to scout out the nests in need. The problem was travel- I cannot risk my raptors to a commercial flight, nor do I have access to a direct trod way. Otherwise, if I must go alone, I do have some skill in Winter that may help.”