One day each year, the Borderfolk, too, could dance. When dawn conquered the slumbering horizon each Summer Solstice, the Borderwomen would rise and take to the forest. In the waking Tumblewood, their verdant chatter would lilt in harmony with surrounding birdsongs—a better blend than any Altaryn orchestra. They would gather herbs and wildflowers. They would gossip as they wove wreaths, as they donned them atop braided hair—queens of the forest, for a day. In the evening, they would dance to the thrumming pull of the Veiled River.