Nerolia never hesitated to follow her childhood friend and now Clan Mother Anjali. As she had told her longtime confidante, she hadn't found her at last to give up on her so soon. The leather worker had always marveled at Anjali's strong faith, because it wasn't just blind belief; but embodied and truly lived spiritual anchoring. She had also seen how she looked at her chosen mate and how her wife did the same. They were bound with the gods' blessings with no shadow of a doubt, It was crystal clear even to Nerolia.

So, she had packed once again, even though she had barely been setting up and organizing her new workshop when the spouses had returned from their keryon gedanes. Also, she had begun to form a few bonds in the other clan, and all of them were following as well, so it was a no-brainer for her leather worker. She had packed everything, grateful for the opportunity to use some verne to drag the heavier equipment all the way to their new home.

They had only reached their destination a few days ago, but all the travelers were already unpacking. While she didn't know yet where she would be setting up her new space, Nerolia didn't mind, for she wasn't a priority like Sister Ashia was a healer. She had provided her with some linens and bandages back at the previous enclave, for she was also a tailor. So, she had naturally volunteered to help the blonde organize her new dwelling.

They had exchanged words a few times during the trip, and Nerolia found herself impressed with the talents Ashia had even though just like herself, she was fairly young. The cataclysm hadn't spared many, and all survivors had to put their best foot forward to help make their people stronger.

She just returned from having bathed, and her long black tresses fell down her back, still dampening her crimson hooded vest, as she reached Ashia's dwelling, seeing the many boxes outsides of the new place.

"Good morning, Ashia," she called out with a smile.