They work in relative silence, the only words passing between them requests for more items or to pass a pack back and forth. It's soothing, in a way, as Lyra falls into rhythms that are so familiar to her. She's done this many a time on her own, though her packing is usually a bit more rushed, given that every moment counts in search and rescue. Eventually, she'd taken to leaving a bag mostly packed by the door, so that all she has to do when she gets a call is to pack in any perishable goods and last minute additions. Still, it's not far off from packing for a hunt, and by the time they finish, the atmosphere of the lodge seems to have shifted into something softer and lighter again.
The news of a shrine to Safrin has Lyra perking up, looking not unlike her Newfoundland shift as her blue eyes lit with interest. "I have time," she says. All the time in the world, in fact, so long as she can return to the Citadel before night falls over the tundra. She would hate to be trapped out on the ice after dark, especially after the various research and warnings she's found as she's spent more time here. But for now, there's still time for her to linger yet. "I'd love to see it."
The news of a shrine to Safrin has Lyra perking up, looking not unlike her Newfoundland shift as her blue eyes lit with interest. "I have time," she says. All the time in the world, in fact, so long as she can return to the Citadel before night falls over the tundra. She would hate to be trapped out on the ice after dark, especially after the various research and warnings she's found as she's spent more time here. But for now, there's still time for her to linger yet. "I'd love to see it."
lyra
Who could ever leave me darling... but who could stay?
