TITANIUM | patrol

[aine.]

[align=center]— aine | the pitt | commodore of the crows | fae druid —

Gleeful.  The fox bounced on her heels as she quickly snatched the basket up, held carefully in her jaws.  Were they going now?  Oh no.  They had to wait, right.  For maybe someone else.  That made some sense, she supposed, bright eyes fixed on the jungle beyond the marketplace.

Soon enough, they had assembled a small patrol.  Four, the number her father seemed satisfied the leave with.  Or perhaps he didn't like waiting around either.  Fourthwall and Kydobi, both who earned her father's critical eye, a look she was accustomed to whenever she scraped her leg or had a splinter in her paw, were coming with.  That was good.  Nice.  Wait, were they okay?  Well.  He said it was fine.

Aine nearly stumbled onto her face when her father rose to leave, over-eager to set off.  She had to wobble for a brief second, fiercely holding onto the basket.  When she regained her footing, she bounded right along.

So she was right!  They were restocking herbs.  "'an I'll hold'em!" She mumbled through the handle with a grin, unaware how jumbled her words likely sounded.

— I'll come back when you call me —