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Hushed Willows Who are we to call each other selfish lovers? - Printable Version

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Who are we to call each other selfish lovers? - Reverie - January 10, 2024

Set 01/11
Bit of powerplay for task-giving, if anything needs to be changed just let me know!
It began with a fever.

Reverie tried to think little of it, at first; she was swift in her response, supplying herbs to ward off infection, to heighten the immune response, to lessen the pain. But the fever only worsened, and with it came so much suffering. Fatigue. Delirium. Fear.

Overnight, @Boone's condition turned critical, and more than once Reverie feared that she would lose him. And it was a visceral fear, unlike any other; the kind of fear that keeps you awake for days, the kind that lingers sour and burning in the back of your throat. She'd been upset with him, so very upset, but quite suddenly it didn't matter at all. She couldn't lose him, she couldn't, not him. But there was no time to weep.

For three days she remained by his side, only straying to bring him food and water. For three days she scarcely slept, and her fur was a mess and her eyes always red, but for his sake she did not weep. Three days; an eternity.

On the fourth morning his fever broke, and while he slept peacefully for the first time in days, Reverie finally took herself outside of their den and wept freely. She'd nearly lost him. He'd nearly died. And he hadn't, but even so, it was not over. In the days to come she would watch him closely; he would need time and rest before he could truly return to his duties as leader and husband. Until then, the pack fell to her.

Reverie went to @Kyrell first, who she trusted the most of the adults who followed them. From him she asked for help with hunting, adding that perhaps he might visit Boone as he recovered. He would need more support than just hers, after all. Next she sought @Reina and @Blossom, tasking the former with scouring their territory for any remnants of herbs beneath the snow, and the latter with helping her care for Boone.

Mae and @Blackbird were given a different sort of task, one that would take them beyond Hearthwood's borders. Reverie asked that they travel to Moonglow, and bring with them a message to Kukutux: that the time they'd spoken of had come, that her husband had fallen ill with infection, and that any help she might bring would be welcome. She gave them pelts and offerings of food to carry with them to Moonglow, and her gratitude for their willingness to help.

To keep their borders strong in Boone's absence, she asked that @Tuft and @Wayfarer frequent them and refresh the scent marks as often as they could. And from @Hypnos, she asked only for his company; his friendship. He was a kindred soul, she felt — and truth be told, she felt she might shatter into pieces at any moment.

When all was said and done, she returned to her husband. She wrapped him in her embrace, careful not to jostle his wound or the herbs she'd dressed it in, and kissed his forehead. It'll be okay, Reverie murmured to him. I'll take care of you. She wondered if anyone had ever told him that before.

Boone was always trying to take care of everyone; a way of running from himself, perhaps, and his own needs. And there was still a bitterness in her for how he had treated her, a lingering resentment for their abrupt reversal of roles — but she hoped that at the end of it all he would see that Reverie had never wanted to be another lost soul for him to save. A marriage was a partnership; it was knowing that when one fell, the other would be there to pick up the pieces and make them whole again. That was the promise they'd made to each other that day in the mountains, standing at what felt like the top of the world. And she'd meant it with every fiber of her being.