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Good ol' Jaques was a dear friend and had known Faelan's family since her mother first arrived in Sunderland. After seeing to Soibhan and wiping down the bar, the man toddled off, squeezed past a barrel of supplies, and disappeared around a corner. A moment longer, and the barkeep could be heard singing, deep and jolly, while he presumably did whatever it is barkeeps do into the backs of taverns.

Soibhan was not left alone for long. Beyond the general view of the common area, just past the doorway Jaques had so recently squeezed through, a particular rook sat, seemingly from out of nowhere. Solace blinked. Perched atop one of the supply barrels, the bird waited for curiosity to get the better of the Soibhan and then, with a flourish of feathers, the rook disappeared into the back as well.

Naturally, Faelan was waiting in the back with her own bowl of stew and a hunk of fresh bread. Jaques was still singing as he poured her a bit of wine, and the woman thanked him graciously before taking a drink. Solace landed on her shoulder, and together the pair waited for the other woman to join them.

Today, she wore no mask.

Faelan smiled to Jaques as Soibhan found her way to the back. The bear of a man made a rosy grin to the both of them, clearly well aware that Faelan had been expecting company. "Do give a shout ifin' you ladies need anything," he nodded, looking between Faelan and Soibhan before he made his way back to the front.

"Mornin' ta ya as well," she replied in a cheery accent that was decidedly more Gaelic than before. "I do imagine yer jus' goin' ta have ta come again, then, hmm?" She took another drink from her cup.

"You'll hafta be forgivin' me for the ruse the other night." Faelan pulled a piece from her bread and dipped it in the bowl of stew. "I'm no' so keen ta be known by so many folks. Especially considerin' how things coulda gone much worse." The image of Gwyn stooped teeth-to-throat over some poor soldier flashed in her memory, and she popped the savory bit of bread into her mouth. The stew, it really was quite good.

Solace stared past the cracker, seemingly straight into Soibhan, as if the rook could see her wondering. And then Solace deftly snipped the morsel from her fingers, quite possibly intending to give her a pinch in the process. After the cracker was gulped down, the rook's feathers fluffed up in satisfaction.

Faelan gave pause after Soibhan's question. The flourishing illusion of spring had been overwhelmingly exquisite, a joyous symphony without compare. But if that spring illusion had brought her to the greatest heights, the bittersweet rot and decay that had followed should have broken all reason.

Perhaps it had, for her mind could scarcely reach toward those midnight memories. All she could recall clearly was the profound sense of a gaping oblivion underlying all of eternity, and a delirious smattering of fragmented memories that smacked of aggressive, predatory impulses.

Faelan unclenched her fists and moved to take a bite of stew. "Well enough." She scraped at the bottom of the bowl with her spoon; there was just enough for one more mouthful. After that, Faelan took one last drink of her wine before she wiped her mouth clean and looked to Soibhan. "Have ya had yer fill?"

At Soibhan's reply, Faelan's chair scraped the ground as she stood. Her clothes were not entirely out of place, but they certainly were not common for a Sunderland woman, either. The usual dress was replaced with a simple blouse and a long skirt that might have doubled as an apron. Beneath her skirt, she was clearly wearing trousers, which tucked neatly into her knee-high boots. Of course, she kept the ever-popular shawl draped over her shoulders. The entire ensemble was still more feminine than her Masquerade costume had been, though decidedly more plain. Most importantly, her attire was practical.

Solace's wings fluttered for balance as the woman stooped to picked-up her bag from the floor. She didn't expect to leave for the journey home just yet, but it was wise to bring supplies when going out into the woods. Especially the Wardwood. Slinging a strap over the shoulder opposite Solace, she waited for Soibhan to join her.

Jaques, naturally, had uncanny timing as the two prepared to leave. He poked his bearded head into the back and made a cheerful smile, "On yer way then, are ya?" He was cleaning a mug with a rag as he spoke. "I took the liberty settin' somethin' aside fer the both o' ya, ifin' ya don't mind." The bearded man disappeared again, presumably to set down the mug and rag. Entering the room again, he hefted over to one counter top, picked up two small bundles wrapped in cloth, and offered one to each woman. "Just a bite in case either o' you feel a might bit peckish later," he winked.

Faelan accepted his generosity and Solace flapped at him. The bird seemed quite comfortable around the man.

When it was clear Soibhan was prepared to leave, Jaques bit them a safe journey, and Faelan, after donning a hooded cloak, lead the way out through the back entrance of the Black Boar.

Faelan smiled to Soibhan as the other woman asked about a horse. "Oh, I've a mighty fine mount. Well mannered 'n' soft as a rabbit," she grinned as though she'd made a joke. Adjusting her shawl, Faelan turned toward the stables and gestured to a gray donkey being lead out by a blond stable boy. He handed over the jenny's reigns and she thanked him before he turned away, the pair apparently as friendly with each other as Jaques had been with Faelan.

She turned back to Soibhan while rubbing the donkey's nose, "This 'ere be Elanore. She knows Sunderland as well as any horse." Faelan carefully put a polished boot into one of the stirrups and pulled herself up onto the jenny. "Traveled these roads with me mother when I was just a babe, she did, and she alone has carted my wares from Oldcastle to Palisade and e'rywhere between. Me grandmother insists I get a proper horse, but this here jenny suits me just fine." She patted the donkey as she spoke, clearly proud of the old girl.

Faelan waited a space for Soibhan to mount her fine horse and settle in before she clicked her tongue and Elanore waded out into the traffic of Oldcastle's bustling streets. Now and then, she glanced to Soibhan and made sure they kept together, but was otherwise quiet. There would be plenty of time to talk once they escaped into the countryside and left the thrum of the city behind.

Elanore ambled on through the growing day, and Faelan was equally content to take pleasure in the journey as Soibhan was. She was keen to be sociable, but every now and again Faelan would pause in her conversation, as though she were listening to something that couldn't be heard. Solace could be seen on occasion, a pale speck following the horizon. Sometimes the rook flew ahead of the pair, sometimes behind, but never too close.

"Oooh, well now, lemme think. Grew up just at the forest's edge. Still live in the same house, too. So I imagine I might know a wee bit about the Wardwood." She smiled, rather like an amused cat. "I dinna suppose you know much of it yet, hmm?"

(Lol, no worries about life barfing on you. Happened to me too, except I did my share of barfing, too. Small post is smallish, but I'll probably have an easier time keeping up if I keep things short. ^_^')

(Note: Faelan has never told Solace's name to anyone. If it's alright with you, I'll assume Soi referred to the bird some other way? Sorry for any confusion. ^_^ )

Faelan mused for a moment. She'd never experienced the pull of the Wardwood tree herself, and doubted that she ever would. "For sure, our words often fail te describe that which we canno' see. How's a gifted hunter explain the little voice inside that tells 'em where te find game, even when the trail is lost? How's a mother beyond sight and sound still know when her little one's in danger? All we can ever call it with any certainty is a feelin'. Where it comes from and why can only be speculated on. I can only imagine it is the same for Chosen." She fell quiet for a moment and stroked Elanore's gray fur, perhaps to give Soibhan a moment to reflect.

When the question of her rook was raised, Faelan made a soft smile and glanced somewhere off toward the eastern sky. "Even as a wee lass, I'd go te the Wardwood Tree from time te time and admire the little totems. Never felt right about takin' one, but I loved 'em all the same. Was at the Tree when my friend found me." She smiled to Soibhan but did not elaborate any further.

"Tell me now, is it a general curiosity that has ye so keen to learn of the Wardwood, or are ye hopeful te find a friend, yourself?"