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><center>\.the filla, almost a mare, walks in. silent, >she attempts to mostly conceal herself in the >shrubbery (haha, Monty Python...) and stiffle her >sounds. dappled coat offers some camoflauge, and the >femina takes heart at that. with the war, the tension >between her older sister and herself and her long >absence, the flicka was not eager to return to her >home in many ways. but the call of her birthplace was >too great, and so back she was. on the borders of her >home, the femme pauses and sniffs the air. her father >was here, as was her sister. the first she rejoiced >at, but at the second, she hesitated. did she really >want to face her sibling? no, but she would have to >some time. resolute, the fae walks slowly into the >terra, eyes and ears open./</center>

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