She’d been sitting on the cliff side for ages it felt like. The dry season was coming to an end and yet there had been no wildfires. No lightning storms. No sign from the spirits that they were ready to gift her with the fire she so desperately needed. And worst of all, no Balthazar to help her in her search.

There were storm clouds on the horizon that day and so, in desperation, Camellia had set out to find the highest peak in the area to await the gift from the gods should they be willing. There were scraggly dead trees, blackened by fire which told her that lightning had struck her.

She studied the sky, hearing the distant roll of thunder. “Please…” she murmured, closing her eyes as she sent a silent prayer to The Mother.

He had split away from Ransom for the time being. The two having a joint investment in finding their wife but also still finding it hard to tolerate the other for too long.
By this point he was sure she was within one of the Prides. It was just a matter of which. And it wasn't like he could just waltz into territories demanding information. He had far more sel preservation than that. He was sure Alizabeth was alive though. If someone had killed her surely they would be bragging about the feat.

Thunder rolled and he paused to examine the weather. Taking a moment to decide if he needed to find shelter for the evening.
A lone figure perched high caught his attention. He stalked closer as distant skies grew murky. That's a dangerous place to be if the weather turns sour. He called to the stranger.

@Camellia

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Her quiet musings were interrupted by a voice, and Camellia gave a light start. She had not heard him approaching. She rose to her feet and turned to to face him, laying her eyes upon a pale figure. She studied him carefully, mistrusting of any lion who was not kin. She noted his beastly size and his pointed ears. Camellia had never seen another quite like this stranger. He didn't seem particularly aggressive in his approach. She considered his words.

"It is only place I find what I need." She would reply after a pregnant pause, watching him closely.

His head tilted at her explanation. To find what she needed?
Well perhaps I can be of assistance? The Warden offered back. I'd hate to see your fur start smoking if that storm gets out this way. Crown nodding toward the darkened sky. He had never seen an animal get struck by lightening before, but he had seen it happen to trees. Alabaster could only imagine that it worked in the same general way.
I'm Alabaster. He added. Figuring perhaps an introduction would help ease her weariness.

@Camellia

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He wariness was the result of a string of bad experiences. But truthfully, it wasn’t as if some of her misfortunes had been u predictable. Ryker, for example, had given off bad vibes from the moment she’d first encountered him. This lion, on the other hand, seemed genuine as he offered to help her. “Well,” Camellia replied, “I be lucky if that happened. I come here for seek gift from storm.” She glanced up at the scraggly, charcoal black tree, then back to Alabaster.

“Camellia.” She replied, taking great interest in his name. It was very similar to a word use in her own language to describe a very fine type of stone. A suitable name for the pale man, impressive in its own right for an earth-worshipper such as herself.

Alabaster's gaze followed her own, a brow raising as he examined the charred plants. It took him a moment to realize, or lack there of, what she meant. And his eyes widened. Did this lioness mean to be purposefully struck by lightening? The Warden could only image just how that situation would turn out.
His attention moved back to her already waiting stare. Surely you don't mean to end yourself in such a way? Alabaster questioned with genuine concern mixed into his deep tone. I won't presume to know your situation, but there are certainly things to live for?
Poor clueless Bast.

@Camellia

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Camellia looked at him strangely, almost unable to fully comprehend what boo he was saying. It appeared that there was a rift in understanding between them, and when she fully realized what he thought her eyes went wide. “No!” She exclaimed emphatically in a way that was quite unlike the docile natured healer. Then, more calmly, “No, never.” She confirmed, rotating her body and dropping her haunches to the ground to sit. In doing so she revealed a small pile of carefully arrange dry brush and twigs that had been previously hidden from view. Nearby was a pile of progressively larger sticks and branches that she had gathered.

“I am wait for Sky to send messenger for bring me fire.” She explained. With a nod of her head she gestured towards the charred tree. “He come here before.”

To say Alabaster was relieved was an understatement. He was pleased to learn that he had been so horribly wrong in his earlier assumption.
Thank Maua. He sighed to himself before letting his voice reach back up to Camellia. That may be true. Referring to this lightening messenger having been here before. But there are much easier ways. Far safer ways for that matter. You can make the fire yourself. Brows raising expectantly. Surely she knew that, right? Didn't most if not all?

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Camellia's gaze had begun to drift towards the darkness on the horizon, watching the distant storm for signs of lightning. She briefly caught the mention of the local deity... Maua but she paid it little mind. However, Alabaster's next words caught her attention and her head snapped around to stare at him, unsure if she had heard him correctly. "Make fire... myself?" She repeated, dumbfounded by this revelation. In all her years of training, she had never been taught anything about making fire herself. She and her grandmother had only ever collected it once, just as Camellia was trying to collect it now. From the Great Sky Messenger, who could choose to bless you with his gift, or not. She could recall the deafening crack and the blinding flash of light... the heat of the burning torch as they carried down the mountain side...

But the Sacred Flame had always burned since that day. It had never gone out until the war had torn out their roots and forced them to leave. With no home and no hearth, the coals that Camellia carried had gone out, leaving her with only ashes. "No. It is not possible." She shook her head, unable to believe him.

The woman seemed to be lost in some unknown thought. And for a moment he wondered if she had even heard his words. But then she responded and her denial only brought amusement onto his features and into his tone. Of course it's possible. My family, the Nesryn, have built fires in our cave and dens for generations.
The Warden examined the sky, deciding if he was going to show her this special little party trick it had to be now or never. The rain would be upon them in no time. Then his blue gaze skowered the immediate area.

Bast padded over to a small dry bush, collecting some twigs and other debris at its base. He stacked them into an unusual pile. The sticks and twigs looking like a tiny mountain peak. But before he finished it off completely he managed to stuff some dry grass in the middle.

Alabaster paused and looked up at Camellia, to see if she was even paying attention. The he turned and started rooting around the area for specific stones. This step took longer seeing as he couldn't use just any old rock. When he finally found suitable pieces he returned and laid them on the ground next to his little unlit campfire. Ready for the magic? He asked playfully; meaning to only joke about the whole magic bit.

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