In the jungles of Syn Cardrys, amongst the stone ruins, one would be able to spot a ruin that was more well-kept than the others. From within, one could smell fire from the small fireplace and the smell of herbs permeated the air. The curtain of hanging moss and vines was pushed aside and the entrance was easily visible to anyone.

       A silver figure read by candlelight on a stone slab that functioned as a table. Her figure was small with a bottlebrush tail that made her look like a fox despite her form lacking the shorter legs and the thick fur that the species was known for. Black scars criss-crossed her body, one of which going over the spot where her left eye would be. Long, green feathers contrasted vastly from her silvery fur but matched her single green eye. An ankh was worn around her neck with added wings that marked her as an Algerim and an ancestor of Horus.

       A pine marten was curled up on top of the rock that functioned as her herb storage.

       Avinalora had just returned from her daily herb-gathering trip and left the curtain in front of her door open for anyone who required medical assistance. She was studying one of her mother's journals, refreshing her mind of information that she probably knew by heart.

       The argent Algerim could also read up on her mother's journals on other medical arts such as bone injuries, sicknesses, and wounds. Her mother was meticulous with her record-keeping and noted almost every ailment she treated and how she did it. Herbal mixtures, symptoms, illustrations, Akila had documented everything she knew about the medicine in her ten years of medicine.

       All this information was passed onto the monochrome medic when her mother and teacher passed away and they were the female's most prized possessions. She wanted to carry on Akila's legacy, her knowledge, her teachings. And after the Civil War, she realized that she could no longer cling onto her mother's memory and the healer would want nothing more than for her apprentice to share that knowledge, use it for the good of the tribe.

       The moon-washed Aviari would do just that.