[ME] gunpowder in your chest

It's a lucky thing, that the Temple is so close to the infirmary, and Isla doesn't have far to come from her work to hear the news that Mabel is sharing. Leafchange is upon them and changes are already afoot (too many to count, so she doesn't look at them too closely), and this is very much a cherry on the top of a cake that's already way too high. "Eight seasons," she echoes. Longer than she'd expected, and a lot shorter too. Chewing thoughtfully at the inside of her cheek, she raises her gaze as if she might see her fellow leader, or Wessex or Varus or any others she recognises. But ultimately, she has to make the decision to speak up. "Thank you," she tells Nikolai with a nod. "That sounds like a very good idea. I'd recommend hosting a meeting to discuss what this means for us and for the Hollowed Grounds, but I think we are pretty much doing that already. My ears are open for opinions and suggestions." ISLA pray for me pray to me