Stride kept at a steady clip, Helena's fine white cloak trailed behind her, the red-gold shimmer of the damask patterns of wolves and stags and great trees traced by the rays of golden sun that poured through the thick canopy above them.
"I've heard of you, Squire Huxley," Helena said with a small quirk of her lip, as she lead the young Anirian past the trunks of trees so far ancient they could rival most mortal kingdoms scattered across Epressa and Liadain combined. "That an Anirian would venture so far from home to join our order," Helena came to stop in a clearing, where proud oaks and pines stood round like witnesses to the conversation the two would share. Quiet as their leaves stirred with the wind, and the trails of Helena's cape fluttered like flickering flame. "I found it most curious," she said as she turned to face the shorter young woman.
She stood in silence for a long moment, her brown eyes large and streaked with the gold of fire's light. Like a wolf's stare. "Tell me, Abrielle, why did you join our order?" she asked, stare as still as a beast's, entranced with most potent intent.