Walking with a kind of sharp, nervous energy, Blue led the other two to the front of the largest tent near the center of camp, just a little ways apart from the Fire. Almost delicately, he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet.
"Elder? Citrine and the stranger are here... May we come in?"
There was a long beat of silence. Then a cracked, weathered voice intoned, "Enter, children."
Citrine and Blue exchanged a glance, then both looked to Tourmaline. Blue gave him a bright, encouraging smile, though his brother simply shrugged, stoic, and ducked inside.
Though a bit larger than the rest of the tents in camp, the inside of the Elder's tent was really nothing all that special. A few furs layered over each other covered the floor, a pile of different herbs, cut and organized, sat neatly in a far corner. The Elder herself rested cross-legged in the center of the tent, poking at a few warm coals in a ring of stone with a long stick.
Though her hair was gray with age, the streaks of purple were still visible within. Most of her scales were cracked and withering around the edges, but they still retained their amethyst hue. Lifting her eyes, she tilted her head as the three younger kulshedra entered, flickering her ears curiously.
"Welcome, stranger."
