An aching head. A stiff body. Nothing terribly dangerous to one's health - at least nothing immediately dangerous. Enya racked her brain for cures and remedies taught to her by Zehr, a wolf of her past, and concluded that a couple herbs might be in order along with a long rest - but not a sleep. No. Sleep could be dangerous for aching heads if it was a concussion. "How about we find you some rosemary then, hmm? It's a great remedy for headaches." So, it was another wolf who'd just suddenly popped into this realm of existence. Interesting. She'd feigned knowing of many others following the same path that she'd taken, and in doing so had gleamed such information from the situation. Now it was up to her whether she shared that they possessed the same history of appearing in this realm, or if she simply kept it a secret. "Nice to meet you, Saida." Her muzzle curved with a larger smile, a warm smile that tried to convey a friendliness. It was even accompanied with a tail wag, however she was sure to keep it high above her back.
"After we find you some rosemary, we can find you a place to rest. Perhaps we can find a fallen log for you to recuperate within." Maybe it was odd just how friendly she was being, but she was really trying to make a good impression on this wolf. Besides, her affinity with bones - even if it was a broken skull - touched a soft spot in her heart. She had been raised to collect such things, earn herself a hoard of bones from trials and battles that she faced down. Her hoard, as a matter of fact, was largely gone from all of her years of travel and realm hopping. She would have to start anew for in her mind, her saddle bags full of goodies and her bone armor didn't count as a hoard. It was simply her belongings, which she'd left tucked away back where she and Caedwyn had taken up temporary residence in the jungle.
"The name is Enya, by the way. I've been around The Realm for quite some time now." Which was the truth. It had been nearly six months that she'd been a resident of the realm. Already six months. Time really did fly by the older that you got. Six months, and her son and familiar had yet to present their selves to her life. Her goal would remain, but it felt more and more fleeting that they would ever appear to see the home she was creating for them. "So, what's your story? You must have a story to tell. Let's chat while we walk and search. Oh, do you want me to help you carry those broken bones? Where I'm from, we create hoards of items that are important to us - mostly bones of our vanquished enemies or treasures we've stolen. Just because it's broken doesn't mean it's unworthy of your hoard."
text. "speech."