Siffir had been sent to Kolvak, a mid-size village on the southern coast of the Ayulis Sea. It had been humid and miserable as she had expected, and it had been home to a witch- Iron Fangs, whom Siffir had been sent to 'check' on. What Siffir hadn't expected when she'd gotten to Kolvak, was to find the town mostly empty, hardly any signs of human life. There were, unfortunately, a lot of human bones. Picked clean of flesh, and upon closer inspection, riddled with teeth marks belonging to a very specific witch. Siffir learned very quickly that the title Iron Fangs was no joke.
But she'd made it out alive, thankfully. Most importantly, she'd get to see Meliora again. A half-smile broke lose from her, the other half of her mouth too sore and split to move properly. Three short clawmarks marred the side of her mouth. Iron Fangs had left Siffir torn to ribbons with a notch on her left ear, deep gouges from her literal iron fangs, bruises on bruises, broken ribs, a sprained ankle, and most notable was the set of four deep clawmarks that tore right through the front of Siffir's chestplate.
The young Wildling rode into Hydra's courtyard on horseback with her head held high, despite the fact that she could barely keep her eyes open. She slid off of her horse slowly, bits of excited Wildling magic crackling in the air like white-hot embers around her when she hit the ground.
"Alright, Chicken," She patted her horse's flank twice, earning a small whinny from her companion, "You go on and find your stall and have a snack n' a big ol' rest, bud. You spent a lot of time being nowhere near the fight, I'm sure you're real tired." She clicked her tongue, and off Chicken went to go do his thing.
Siffir turned and began walking to the Hall of Transcripts, not waiting to be escorted. The air around her continued to crackle and vibrate with excitement again, her wild senses now picking up on Mel's scent. She was like peppermint and spring, and she naturally had that distinct wild smell. There was also clear path where her sister had walked, and Sif half-grinned, comforted by the sight and presence of it. She could feel where Mel had placed her feet, could see it in the bent blades of grass, and she could see that her sister's gait was different. That meant to Siffir that she was wounded.
Her heart raced a little bit, tinged with worry seeping through the excitement. She quickened her own pace, forgetting how sore she was, breaking out into a sudden sprint. In Siffir's wake were left snakevines and nettles and flytraps, small little wriggling black flowers budded and bloomed among the flora her wildling energy had risen into existance, evidence of the very place she'd been born. The deep magic of the Whiskwood had seeped into the fabric of her life force.
She dashed into the room, nearly skidding to an abrupt halt infront of Mel, who opened her eyes the moment she was there.
Time seemed to halt as she scooped Mel into her arms, laughing happily, "I feel like shit! You must'a had a tough time on your mission, by the looks of it. Those kelpies weren't fuckin' around!" She exclaimed, pulling away from Mel to get a good look at her.
"Iron Fangs went crazy, Mel. Like actually crazy. I knew she was a little off her rocker, but I wasn't told she was eating people! The Superiors let me go in there thinkin' I was just gonna have a nice chat and some tea! but no! I get to Kolvak an' I find out she's horfed down at least twenty people, and she didn't even get fat!" She hugged Mel again, inhaling deeply, enjoying the kind warmth of the embrace.
"I missed you, Mel. Missed you fiercely."