Illuna absolutely took her words as a compliment. Her size was nothing compared to her faith. She did not need her eyes higher up to see; she only needed her eyes, and her desire to look. She recognized that she was small, of course, but it bolstered her pride, knowing that she was Mother's prophet despite that. Her faith strengthened and bolstered her in ways muscle and bone could not. After digging up the fish and giving her little remark, she giggled at the wolf's quite literal response, perhaps taking it too as a joke. She realized the wolf was still skeptical, asking questions rather than going for the fish. Illuna worried that she misjudged the wolf's hunger... no, she was never wrong. The wolf was clearly still so adamant on holding onto her coldness. Either that, or she was picky: a strange thing to be if she had truly been raised in such a cold, desolate environment. So, Illuna lifted the fish and trotted a little closer. She set it down, partway between the two, then quickly scampered backward to the hole. This gave the wolf and her fish some space, in case the wolf was just nervous to come closer. As the fox did this, the wolf asked for more about Illuna, who had no reservations sharing. I am just a messenger, a courier, she answered rather modestly, considering how she really viewed herself. She was a messenger of Mother Atona, a courier of Her love. I am here to help. Many die here in the cold, many who deserve... more... She seemed suddenly faint in the middle of her sermon. She knew the feeling: Mother was about to show her something. Her vision faded, and her cyan eyes glossed over. She backed up a couple dizzy steps, nearly stumbling into the hole she had dug. She was about to see something, to experience something. Wait, she whispered, intending it not for the wolf but for Mother. But Mother was not listening.

Rolling for the effects of Clairvoyance. This is a “strong” vision. Feel free to explain what she sees in your post, or just let me know OOC or on Discord if you'd like!

• Success: She gets a fairly accurate waking dream of an event from Luciana's past that at least reveals her name and where she's from.
• Failure: She gets an inaccurate waking dream of an event from Luciana's past, with many incorrect details.

The wolf so passionately and fervently refuted what Illuna so strongly believed to be true. Of course this wolf was cold; she was rejecting Mother's gift to her. She let her speak, curiosity peaking when she mentioned being from somewhere snowy and cold. Illuna knew of nowhere south of Aralon like that. Perhaps she, too, was from further north? The fox wanted to know more about this, but she knew she would have to ask later. The wolf definitely was not yet trusting enough to tell. Though, if the fox were lucky, she would not need to ask at all... Illuna still spoke as they walked. You said yourself that the cold feels pleasant, Illuna pointed out after letting the stranger give her argument. If you were not cold, you would not feel the cold, pleasant or otherwise. I appreciate your resilience; you have grown accustomed to the cold, you have found comfort in it. Your persistence may outshine my own, perhaps. She did not look back at the wolf; rather, she kept busy tracking her own scent, searching for something she had hidden. Yet, you cannot say you are used to feeling the cold if you do not feel the cold. She kept her nose to the ground, smelling for something or another. Eventually, after quite a bit of walking, she came to a spot of softer dirt that had been dug up somewhat recently. It was one of her many caches. She dug at it for a moment, flinging dirt behind her. She dug and dug at the frozen earth before only her tail stuck out from the pit. Then, she backed back out, a decently large frozen fish in her jaws. She set it at her own little paws and looked at the wolf. Illuna joked, I presume this fish, too, is used to the cold.

The fox had to keep herself from looking amused at the question. The stranger's plights were clear as day. Everybody who ever wandered into Aralon carried the same basic issues: cold, hunger, loneliness. This specific wanderer carried with her scars and such palpable apprehension. You are cold, alone, going nowhere, Illuna listed, a touch of concern in her high-pitched voice. You are scared. And the scar on your face... your fate has not treated you well. The arctic fox trotted ahead a bit, once again in the wolf's path. She looked back with a forepaw lifted, ready to continue. Plus... everybody needs help. Follow me if you hunger, offered Illuna. Allow me the blessing to feed you, at the least, so that we both may flourish. Provided Luciana accepts, Illuna would start leading her through the forest.

The general direction was certainly not something Illuna could mask, even with the fog. The sun would always be southwest of them in the afternoon. Neither could she ultimately hide the scent of their pawprints; the most she could do was twist them around, crossing over them, to obfuscate their path. She had occasionally noticed Ida scratching bark from the trees, keeping a mental record as to where, in case the bear would be an issue. At the moment, though, Illuna had no reason to be concerned, despite initially fearing the bear would eat her. Ida was clearly smarter than the bear who so generously donated his flesh for her bag. Illuna backed up to watch with awe as Ida's mandibles took the honey. She had absolutely no doubt anymore that the insectoid parts were real. She thought it was cool, frankly. If Illuna had mandibles like that, she figured she would be able to do so much more fine work. Perhaps she could even make new barrels by herself. Her tail wagged as she watched Ida enjoy her treat. It felt so good, helping somebody else like this. She knew she was making Mother Atona proud; she knew her star would shine so brightly. She was thankful to Mother for giving her this opportunity. The little fox had begun reaching a black paw for the bag of honeycomb scrap when Ida asked her about her construction site. Oh, she piped up, excited to tell her all about it. She leaped down from the barrel and darted to the line of small stones, tail brushing against the ground. I foresee a log cabin here, she began, thirty paces wide and sixscore paces long, where the lost, hungry, and cold may be saved. This site marks the cellar, where I am to properly store food and brew mead, wine, and brandy. She then dug into the rough dirt for demonstration, continuing, Our claws are but snowflakes in the vast tundra of this pit, but to Mother, we are only Children. With only a dewdrop of Her love and resilience, we can move mountains. She stopped her efforts to move her “mountain”, looking back toward Ida. She was big, much bigger than even Crescent. Illuna's head tilted as she realized the potential. You could surely hold far more than just a drop of water, though, observed the fox. I would be honored to see your strength, if you feel generous to provide.