Sunspire Mountains Now I know it's safe to say nothing's perfect anyway

Happy second birthday Rev LMAO, Twin let me know if the powerplay isn't okay!

The snows had returned, marking a year since Reverie had come to the wilds; two since her birth, bringing her now into the full breadth of adulthood. And she had learned that so much can happen in a year.

In a year the world can change. In a year you can become someone else. In a year your mind can slip away, spiraling into the breeze in a flurry of gilded feathers. In a year you can blink and find that nothing looks the same as it once did.

Golden feathers haunted her at sunrise; warm trickles of phantom blood down her thighs, pooling around pale toes, staining them until she looked again and found there was nothing there at all. Her nights, filled with terrors. She kept it hidden until she could not, until she no longer trusted the glimpses of shadows and the whispering threats under rustling autumn leaves. Small gods.

I am the sun, and you will burn with me.

Burning, until it brought her to tearful confession one morning among the icy rain and feathering snow, the drifting fogs that scared her so much because what if she saw something in them? Something not real; something she would not know was not real until it was too late. And so in confidence she surrendered those precious secrets she could no longer keep. The full story, then; the way reality sometimes twisted all around her in fearful tangles of misperception, how she could hardly trust herself, how she had feared the witch and feared her friends and how, in the end, she had run from them all.

Everything; he would hear all of it, the one who had chosen her, who she hoped would stay by her side even seeing the ugliest parts of her. She told @Boone about the bird; about the blood; about the whispers in the winds and none of it was real, none of it, and she was afraid. She was so desperately afraid. She did not want him to leave but how could she ask him to stay?

Even so she asked it of him — that he would be her anchor and her safe harbor, that she might see through his eyes when her own clouded vision failed her. Did she trust him? Did she have a choice?

Outside the walls of their den, the rain went on.