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 Over the Hills and Far Away, [Aoife]
Cahira Murdock
 Posted: May 17 2018, 11:36 AM

Age: 18
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Posts: 16
OOC: Fyra

Cahira followed in a sort of quiet meditation along with Aoife. She felt all too real in comparison to the ethereal maiden she shadowed, paying respects to the dead. Each grave she left a bouquet of flowers made of ice, a tribute to the way her mother had filled meadows with statues of those she had known and lost. But there was little else she could do to acknowledge their sacrifice.

She remained quiet until Aoife led her to a final pool, her voice cool and calm. But the contents of this pool made Cahira’s breath hitch slightly. She felt the brief flare of sadness break through Aoife’s mental control, but her own feelings were much more intense. Sadness and rage mixed together at the unfairness of these younglings dying before they ever reached their true potential. Her sister had not been placed here due to her age and because her family had a place to put her. But that had also been unfair.

Cahira’s expression wavered slightly in her hidden anger, her eyes intense with emotion. She only barely hid it before Aoife stood once again, but her eyes and the intensity within, could only be masked so far. Passionate anger at the injustice of young deaths blazed within her. But her only expression of it was a simple statement. ”Life isn’t fair, to take such young souls from our people.” Her voice quivered, her youth and lack of control showing through.
Aoife Caomhánach
 Posted: May 20 2018, 07:56 AM

Age: 28
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Posts: 24
OOC: Olly

• these hummingbirds are not made for winter •

Though she could not see Cahira, Aoife could hear the dampened intensity behind her voice when she spoke. The unfairness of loss, especially with such young lives, was not lost on Aoife, but she did not harbor the same rages that the other woman did. Her family was fortunate and well-off – they stood a better chance at survival than most in this world. Perhaps such a privilege had weakened her ability to understand or sympathize with the plight of others. Perhaps, Aoife thought, she had just accepted long ago that life and its end was out of her control and rearing against it in anger was a fruitless waste of time.

“It’s not.” she answered smoothly all the same from where she knelt, her eyes scanning the ice above the dozens of faces. “The gods work in mysterious ways; I do not pretend to understand their intentions.” Why had Hentu called back these souls so early on in their lives? How was it that he was unable to halt the suffering of his people caused by other malicious spirits? Aoife turned her head and looked back at Cahira, her face expressionless. “In life, we all must die. Perhaps these young ones were spared from a worse fate, in the end.” At that, her expressionlessness softened into one of introspection, and she dipped her head. "I will remain here for a while with the lost children. You are welcome to stay and pray with me, or leave as you like."

• still i don't mind the snow, and the cold could make them strong •
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