Father Heron smiled at Rattles in response to his question. Most of the others ignored him, while some looked at him with bemused expressions. Father Heron spoke up, answering Rattles.
"We will be. Each casting of the spell is draining on all of us, though."
"How can I help?"
Father Heron hesitated. "I'm not sure that there's much you can do for now, Rattles."
Rattles hung his skull dejectedly. He just wanted to ease the burden that these people were so clearly straining under. He didn't really understand what was going on or what they were doing, but that didn't make him feel any better. His head suddenly shot up as he animatedly asked, "What is it that you all are doing, exactly?"
Rattles hoped that by understanding what the circle was trying to accomplish, he could help in a different way somehow.
Father Heron hesitated, then shrugged. He told the group to rest for a few minutes, which announcement was met with a scattering of grateful groans as people settled onto the spongy topsoil. After the announcement, Father Heron walked with visible difficulty to Rattles and began answering his question. "Well, you already know that the core purpose of this gathering of our order is reclamation."
As he spoke, he sat, gesturing for Rattles to do the same. Rattles sat down as Father Heron continued. "I've been recognized as head of our order by right of strength, so I guide the circle in times of strife."
Rattles was confused. "Strife? Did something happen?"
Father Heron nodded. "A powerful lich came to our forest. He brought ruin to the land, and upset the natural order. Through great collective effort, we banished him from this place. However, while he was here, his influence corrupted portions of the woods. The circle's meeting cannot be considered complete until every last trace of his influence is reclaimed."
"What's a lich?"
Father Heron laughed uproariously. Rattles didn't understand what was so funny, but he trusted the human to explain. After a moment, the aging druid collected himself, wiping a tear of mirth away.
"I'm sorry, Rattles. There's no way for you to really know much of anything, I suppose. It just surprised me, the question."
Growing serious, he elaborated. "A lich is a mortal spellcaster who, through evil and terrible deeds, becomes undead, with all of their power and their mind intact. Not all liches are the same, but Malost was a lich who was so dark and so evil that his very presence brought pain and harm to the forest. We gathered in numbers that haven't been replicated in generations to face him. We lost a lot of good people to the fight it took to banish him."
Rattles nodded. That explained a lot. Then, another thought occurred to him. "Wait, you don't normally all travel together?"
Father Heron smiled and shook his head. "No. We typically only gather at the solstices and equinoxes, or in times of great sorrow. Malost was a threat that required the full strength of our order to face. Even now, eradicating the last of his influences here would be nearly impossible for us to accomplish individually. Once the last pocket of corruption is rooted out, we will go our separate ways for a time, and gather at our Summer Moot."
"Wait, what does that mean for me?"