Eva moves with absolute quiet and calm through the sewers. The smell sadly something she grows accustomed to each time she delves beneath the city streets of Baldur's Gate as the girl runs her hands along the stone walls, the velvet of green moss the only slight comfort in her environment of sharply cut stone and brick working. Even the forcefully directed flow of sewer water has a... unnatural sensation to it, carrying fecal matter and good only to those few rats that still live beneath the surface of the city. Her footsteps paused, to allow the hurried foot fall of what could be anything, really, pass by. She knew only that it was roughly of human weight and height. Four of them. And that they were off to somewhere in a hurry. The possible hunting of urban cut-throats however was far from her desire, instead kneeling down fifty paces from the man hole she had dove down to come all this way.Onna'evatril, having only recently returned to the Gate after business afar, has been sighted awaiting the team assembled by Elyssa the sun elf. The moon elf accompanied them into the sewers, rumor may reveal, to inspect the cause of the sudden outbreak of diseased rats spreading their ailment to local live stock and suburban wild life.
The elf may be seen over the next several days exhibiting... incredibly odd behavior. Willfully subjecting herself to the cold and damp of the sewers time and time again with a bottle of milk and a hand puppet that roughly resembles a rat, made from real rat's fur. Upon exiting the sewers each time, she huffs looking a bit flustered but still carrying a smile regardless.
Excavating a brick from the wall, the girl brushes aside a heavy dirt and dust of stone. Smiling a bit off still as she reaches further within the wall, and pulling gently from its safety a small nest made of clean cloth, cotton for its softness and warmth, burlap for its toughness, and tucked within those fine materials... baby rats.
Oh, it wasn't that she could bring herself to hate them. No, she didn't -truly- hate anything alive. And there was a sort of charm to the little pink things, naked and vulnerable, blind and without a mother. It was just a far cry from the noble work she performed in Evereska. Going from taking care of lost and hurt yearlings to grow into magnificent stags and gorgeous does, to... well. Raising rats to scurry about the sewers. This was amidst one of her more humbling moments for certain.
But as the elf adorns her hand with the mock doll of a rat, and gently feeds the milk bottle alongside her hand to flow into mock teats of a simple beast, the pangs of honor besmirched quickly evaporated. They needed her... and. In a queer way. The city needed them. Them to carry off the refuse, them to eat what would simply rot in the sun for ages. Needed them to scurry about being caught by cats, to feed them, and again feed something else. Eva coming to the quiet realization that truly, all life great and small has a place within the world. A fact that was far too easy to forget when used to quietly stalking orcs beneath their noses, and evading more and more deadly beasts every day, walking right beside them with a smirk on. This was a simple, and humble task. And for a moment, she could forgive herself to forget this was a filthy sewer, and not the beautiful forestry she left so long ago.
Fed to their fill, the small ratlings receive a check up. The most gentle of hands seizing their tiny paws to check in the crux of their wrinkled, pink skin for signs of puss, boils - anything that could instantly turn their 'mother' from adoptive parent to the bane of their existence in an instant. Checking their little eyes, each time, for signs of crust and puss. Checking their mouths, and noses, for the foam of a mad animal's rage. Checking the growing fuzz of fur for signs of mange.
And each time... the druidess returns them to their nest with a long sigh of relief. Though nothing would cause her pause to crush them beneath the same brick that now acted as shield to their home, with just enough space for a small rat to crawl through on becoming old enough to wander away from home, she was not heartless. Even having to smash tiny baby rats would've caused the druid to frown, and bemoan for the rest of the day. But it wouldn't be this day. Nor did it seem to be for the week... Eva bides her time. Setting aside a few minutes each day, every few hours. To care for the future of Baldur's Gate's small, seemingly inconsequential eco-system. A system that had suffered, more than enough, already.
And the small elf would stop at the base of the ladder, each time. Smile sweetly and knowingly to a single brick down the path with a glint in her gold hued eyes. And ascend the railing as quietly as a mouse herself, to run a warm bath and enjoy a glass of wine.




