Sorcha's days had been long and lazy, a combination that fit her just right. Spirane had so much to offer to keep her busy for she scrounged around for herbs in the fall to stock pile through the winter and also ate her fill of whatever berries she could find. With winter's arrival, her desire for berries has increased due to the lack of product, and she wished fervently for the taste of a frost-kissed snowberry but had yet to actually go in search of one. Instead she stuck to her frigid rock by the frozen babbling brook in Spirane, her favorite place and the place where she had told her stories to the children. It left her with a sense of calm and purpose to do so, her mossy green eyes often searching for her absent imprint, although she was consoled by their bond that told her he was okay.

Tithe had approached her, introducing himself, and asking if she might wish to accompany him to Glorall to tell a story to which she eagerly agreed. A smile filled with her own personal secrets coils on her lips as she finds herself at the border of the sea-side pack. It wasn't Diveen, like she had planned, but she had yet to hear the call of Maddox and time had slipped by. Sorcha, Sorcha, welcome to the sea, tinkling voices giggled and from the corner of her eye she fancies she can see ephemeral wings the color of pale ice. The sea had been the very thing to carry her to Molodian, a gust of wind having tossed her off the cliff of her homeland and carried her through the waves to the shores close to Spirane. While she had found a peace here knowing that fate had tied her to this land for some purpose, she missed her brothers severely.

"It smells fresh here," she says, her voice beautiful and melodious as she glances at Tithe. She moves inward, assuming that Eden had agreed to this little exhibition, and pauses frequently to look at her surroundings in a fascinated manner, that smile never leaving her lips. Sorcha does not stop her walk, her step graceful as she presses through the territory and closer to the beach, spotting a sand dune that rises higher above the rest. "There," she states in a pleased manner, grinning as she moves away from Tithe and climbs the soft sand, turning to lok down at him. Here is where she would have her story and now all she needed were her audience members; with a thrust of her head she lets out a song, sweet and wise, calling for the youth to scamper forward for adventure and fun.