They care for her needs, which are few enough… goat’s milk and berries, bread and herbs…fur for the cloak and boots she wears against the cold through the long nights of vigil by the stones.
They keep their distance, coming only to the Guardian.
She speaks to none else who do not seek.
Very different this life from her beginnings in the bright, fire-lit halls of lore and music… but it is life and she serves the Clan of the Raven.
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