Hushed Willows country song

lil backdated thread because i feel bad they never got to actually interact D: for any/all of the harborlings! @The Widow Redhawk @Ava Amara @John @Dinah dated for the 20th <3

hearthwood had its first guests.
they were welcome, of course, but boone could not deny his curiosity had been piqued. a young mother, a strange man, and with them they herded two children — all of them travelworn and carrying an unreadable aura that twisted his stomach with sadness and perhaps pity.
something had happened to them.
the mountaineer had decided today was his own day to speak with them while his wife busied herself. he lugged to them meat from a white-tailed buck, dried lavender (that he'd stolen from his wife's stash) to calm their addled minds, and one of his very own bedfurs for the girls to share in the bristling cold.
what brings y'all this way? seawater too chilly this time a'year?

the man and his wife were kind. it almost made heda wonder why she had her heart so fixed on the bypass, and then she reminded herself it was far from the sea.
a place god could not go.
boone was speaking, offering them meat and herbs and blankets. heda, who had not looked into his eyes before this moment, offered a grateful curve of her lips that faded as soon as it had come.
"my husband is no longer with us," she finally said, as gently as she could suggest that the man she loved had died a horrible death and she was partially to blame; or totally. "we had eight children. i have two sons on the island. one will not leave." 
it was easier to speak than she had thought but now pain welled up through the silence. "thank you, for letting us stay as we wait for simeon."

others are still welcome! ALSO: 100 4 u <3

oh.
he listens with silent commiseration. a dead husband. three, four, five, no, six missing children — or at least there had been several who chose not to come to hearthwood. this young woman was drowning.
i offer you my condolences, warmth pools within his gaze. that's.. y'know, that ain't no easy task, what you've got goin' on. but it sounds to me like you're doin' the right thing.
and it was, he thought. doing what she could for her children. doing what she could to pick up the pieces. for accepting help when it was needed. you don't have to thank me. by all means, you're-- you're all welcome here.
simeon. a name that belonged to one of the children. i'm sure it's hard on him, dealin' with the death of a parent. i've been there. he'll come around when he's ready.

congrats! <3

boone was kind, with an easy voice and genuine advice. heda found herself unfairly envying reverie, who would undoubtedly get to raise a new litter with her husband who was quite alive and not buried beside the sea.
she hung her head in shame at her own anger.
"thank you, boone. i — all i can do is trust that god brings my children home."
and that she could be forgiven for being so horrible a mother.