8th of Fall, morning.
The summer had been good to Khiara since Vanator and Kashik had found her. She'd been lost, alone and at her last thread of sanity. Vsenri's life hung in the balance, and Khiara had found herself alone and without a friend. It wasn't that she was alone again, it was that she was utterly alone. Vsenri was her only grip on reality and his fate predicted her future. Time had passed, and the young vantha found herself letting Kashik and Vanator guide her, help her through the gut wrenching pain as she waited for word from the Sanctuary. Without their aide, she would have ended her aching pain and suffering. An abomination to the Goddess surely.
Still, time had indeed been kinder. Vsenri had been healed, and Khiara could not find the words in common to thank Kavala enough. She never met the woman, not face to face, but she blessed her in Vani and swore to write a song about her. The White Woman and the Stallion. Swore it. Reunited with the white frostmarch, Khiara's healing shifted into a positive swing. She smiled again. And still, there was Vanator, always just a glance away. Khiara cared about Kashik, grew to find the woman was rich with life and love. But Vanator had captured her heart, and she found the days when he was around she had to repress her heartfelt desires. Often she caught herself simply watching him, and with red cheeks and a small frown on her brow she would force herself to turn away.
This particular morning, the young woman found herself thinking of him. It disgusted her how little self control she had. Frustrated, she left her pavilion and made her way to the river. It was good to be back in Endrykas, almost felt like home. The township had moved, but the atmosphere remained the same. The people were still drykas. A small smile came to her lips as she walked, towel slung over her shoulder. Such a contrast to Avanthal, but still so welcome as a second home.