The Heartwood [m] nothing satisfies me but your soul

Tags only for reference. Again, Rebel is free to post with Viinturuth if she chooses to.

The sun set—the sun rose. A couple times over. Quick work had been made when it had only been the two traveling—now, wrapped in the largest skin of prey they could capture and find, the Mayfair men were in Lilitu’s final march.

Every so often, Akavir would mutter in the tongue of his people. @Viinturuth was a silent companion, but would offer the same brief responses when he sensed his brother needed it.

The last time he had come to the Heartwood he had been attacked. Now—the forest was bare, once more. It suited him better—this was Ibis’ forest… Now, @Ibis and Lilitu’s.

Having only visited his wife’s grave a handful of times in his life, he knew not just the location of where she lay, but the surroundings of it. Grief had a funny way of imprinting itself in certain ways—in this, a photographic memory of his time here.

In some ways, blurry, as if his mind sought to protect him from that stabbing pain that came about with the loss of a loved one.

Gingerly, they placed the skin—Akavir motioning to Viinturuth to wash himself and thoroughly.

There, on the grave of his wife and now daughter, Akavir would whisper to them again in the tongue of the Mayfair—ensuring his love for them. That their mark on this world was far from over—that while he could not be a better man with them, he could be a better man for them. “Tha gaol agam ort, gu bràth,” he whispered fervently, over and over, until sleep took him.

Only when Viinturuth gently shook him awake and led him to cleanse himself as well did he feel some of that dark weight lift itself. @Lilitu was where she belonged. With her mother—a final resting place. No longer were they alone.

With this knowledge, the brothers would travel home.