something had changed. it was not the rounding of bellies, nor the pressing change of season. no, there was something else that stirred in the ill quiet. static flitted through the air, a buzzing that rooted itself in amunet's ear. since her arrival and meeting with kolfinna and the sisters, she had done little to advertise her place on the peak. the grieving of her own sister had swung swiftly into her life, and thoroughly lay a stone around her neck. a stormcloud of regret and malaise had brewed at the pit of her stomach and what was transpiring on the peak was a welcome reprieve. amunet set off as she noticed the familiar figures travel towards the newcomer. and despite the added weight of her growing child, amunet moved swiftly and with the same cautioned steps in which she was accustomed to using.

she arrived, as kolfinna's voice broke the quiet, and amunet moved hastily to stand with them.

"i think we all have." she added quietly, coming to stand at Kolfinna's right. Her chin lifted and reached, pressing her muzzle softly at her shoulder. a ghost of a smile hung in the words, fading as Amunet's posture righted itself. her eyes lifted from her, and fixed their stare on the one who stood at the heart of their congregation. amunet held no unkindness in this stare, simply held her attention to what she supposed was a homecoming of sorts. she, much like the sisters and kolfinna, had come to the peak at a point where there seemed little on the peak. they faithful few, and the wind itself, had seemed to populate it's treacherous slopes. and much like the others, amunet took some joy in knowing the tide was changing. relief softened her usual austere expression, and in it's edges held a grateful look at this fresh face.