Once they were within the relative warmth and safety of the moon fey's tent, Rilana pulled her boots off and replaced them with the soft slippers she had picked up in Stone Crest. She busied herself trying to bring some water to a boil and making some tea in the travel-sturdy cups in her pack. Everything came to a stand-still when she tried to add the promised honey, discovering that the precious golden stuff had met with a similar fate as Alya's ink, refusing to budge from the bottom of the corked pot.

[color=00aeef]"...oh! Oh [i]my[/i]. Well that's just unfortunate,"[/color] Rilana pouted crossly. [color=00aeef]"Trix did not tell me that honey could [i]freeze[/i]! I will definitely have to have a word with her about that when I get back to Ebonfort..."[/color]

If she ever got back. If their trip was succesful and if she was allowed to keep her position as Envoy. If nothing terrible happened to either destroy the world or make her seek a life of solitude in the wild north. Nothing was certain at all. With a sad sort of grin, Rilana stuffed the honey jar down the front of her shirt were it would be sure to warm up nestled in her cleavage. [color=00aeef]"There. That might work."[/color]

Glancing up at Alya, she noticed, not for the first time, that the young woman seemed particularly distracted by something. [color=00aeef]"You look about as miserable as I feel. Tell me what's bothering you? You sit there and write. I'm going to braid your hair. Give me something to do while this honey warms up."[/color]

By this point, especially with Ortha's shenanigans, the middle of Rilana's tent was more a nest of furs and blankets than any kind of organized bed + supplies arrangement. The druid tossed a stick of trail jerky to Echo and settled down within easy reach of the lantern, arranging Alya in her lap with the songweaver's back to her chest. All she would have to do is peak over the smaller woman's shoulder to see what she was writing and they could have a relatively normal conversation.

While she waited for other things, Rilana produced a soft-bristle hairbrush and began to stroke it gently through Alya's white hair. [color=00aeef]"It's very soft, your hair. And straight!"[/color] Her own had traces of faint pastel colours, but tended to run in wild tendrils if she wasn't careful. [color=00aeef]"It's a shame we aren't in Frigmount yet,"[/color] the moon fey sighed. [color=00aeef]"I will have to get you some of the beautiful scrimshaw and silver pins they make in Krarik."[/color]