Duck Lake the frumious Bandersnatch!”

Was it so bad she didn’t want to go back home?

The shrike had followed her, perching on her head to wake her that morning. It peeped at her a few times, and then flew away. She thought that would be it.

The little bird, however, did not.

It followed her through the wetlands to hear, where it nestled against her nape. Blossom tried her best not to unseat it, but the world around her was familiar, in a way she didn’t understand. It was like she had seen it in some distant, haunting memory. Where nothing hurt, where the sun was the first thing she saw.

She couldn’t make sense of it, so she didn’t try to. Instead, Blossom sat beside the lake, letting it lap over her front paws occasionally. It was cold, at first, but eventually she numbed to it.

Maybe she should go back to the sea. The sound. The bay. Maybe she should travel.

Blossom stared at her feet.

Maybe she should just rest.

This time she told @Boone where she was going, before she went; to look for Blossom again, to try to correct her failures as a mother before it was too late. Her daughter had been gone for too long. Reverie didn't think she could bear to lose her.

It was in the valley that she found her, by the lake where she had perhaps been conceived. Reverie wasn't certain. Either way the memory was painful; either way it hurt to find her here, of all places. Blossom, She called out softly, hesitant in her approach. Did she hate her, now? Would she be so wrong to hate her?

Reverie lingered, a fearful distance between them now. She didn't know what to say. She didn't know what to do.

Tags just for reference.

He kept close to the creek—his fever broke, his body beginning to truly mend. Still, he was fatigued.

But he also felt useless—and thus, after spanning the borders, he had trailed just outside, looking to check on the migrating herds. Winter was coming upon them swiftly—@Sovereign and @Ensio were looking to lead a pack hunt, but it would not hurt for the pack to fell something larger in the meantime, together.

He was about to call for @Arric when pale gold eyes cast upon a youthful girl.

Something was vaguely familiar about her—but he couldn’t quite place it. He swept forward, about to gather her attention when an eerily unwelcome voice filtered the air—beating him to the girl’s side. Blossom—ah.

And, of course, Reverie.

The ghost of Rising Sun Valley.

He blinked—gaze trailing over her, very much realizing he was now interrupting something between the two women.

Moments before the voice reached her, the shrike shrilled into her ear, an alert that made her shoulders bristle for a single moment before she forcibly flattened the fur.

Slowly, she turned around to look at Reverie, painting a smile on her face. She wanted to run to her. She wanted to run away from her. She wanted to do a thousand different things. The shrike pecked at her ear, as if prompting her to say something.

Hi, momma. She said, voice so soft she could barely hear it.

And then, out of the corner of her eye, the dark shape. Immediately she swung her head to face the figure, eyes going owlish. Her bird ducked into her neck fur as she stared at the man, eyes unblinking. 

He looked like Mae. She couldn’t tell why that made her so upset.

Relief was the first thing she registered, when Blossom did not greet her with hatred in her eyes. It meant that there was a chance, that things could be mended, that —

The second thing she registered was Akavir. Then her daughter's discomfort. Reverie bristled in automatic response, driven closer to her daughter by protective instinct. It's alright, sunshine, She murmured to her, finally noticing the bird. It wasn't so high on her list of priorities just then, so she let it fade into the background, pressing her nose briefly to the top of Blossom's head if she'd allow it.

She was determined to ignore Akavir. He'd made it clear there was no place for her in his life anymore, so what right did he have to be here? Instead she addressed Blossom quietly, not caring whether the alpha of Swiftcurrent Creek stayed to hear or not. Don't worry about him. He won't bother us, Not if he knows what's good for him. I - I came to - apologize. For being distant, and not being there for you. I'm sorry.

I - I've been so afraid of - losing you. But that's no excuse, She sucked in a breath. I want to be here for you. If - if you still want me to.

Last post from him unless addressed! <3

The girl looked to him first—a little doe in headlights, much like her mother.

Reverie chose to ignore him—an act that brought neither amusement nor pain to the man. He simply remained indifferent. Relieved, almost, that chapter of his life had come to a close. No longer trying to play the white knight to a she-wolf who had only despised him time and again—

—what did strike him, and caused an intense glance to the honeyed woman, was that he could have swore… Mae. His eyes drifted around—she was nowhere to be seen. Had she been here, prior? His heart clenched... the notion that she was safe a soothing balm.

He tampered down the emotion that did rise to his throat at that—was his daughter in the area, still?

The mother spoke to her child—pained words, he gathered, but with a flick of his ear, he chose to skirt around them in a wider berth, not willing to disrupt whatever family crossroad he had come across.

Now, the thought of watching the herd migration was replaced with the need to determine if he could catch his daughter’s scent—unknowing where—and whom—the scent actually clung to.

Blossom was quiet for a while. The bird, in her mind now considered a friend, probed its beak behind her ear.

I-Its alright momma. The man had left and for one, ridiculous moment, Blossom hoped he’d stay. Say something. Give her any reason at all to focus on anything besides this conversation that was going to rip her apart.

Her eyes glanced away. Again, the bird probed at her ear. Should she name it? She probably should shouldn’t she, if it was to probe her to death.

Snowdrop, then. After the flower. Like her.

Right, conversations she couldn’t run from.

Blossom swallowed.

…did I do something wrong? She had to have, it was the only way she could rationalize it in her head.

She felt sick. Blossom had always been a joyful child, a pure light shining through the shadows she was born beneath. Reverie had always cherished that light; her sunshine. From their first moment together in that cave it had been just the two of them, woven so tightly together that it didn't really feel like two at all. Blossom was a part of her. She didn't think she knew how to exist without her daughter anymore.

But Reverie was never meant to be a mother. It was one thing to know the purpose of motherhood and another to live it, to embody it, to hold it as a piece of yourself. Blossom looked to her for all answers. She tried to remember that.

And now, the evidence of her failure staring her in the face. Blossom's sorrow. Her flight from Hearthwood. She was so like Lestan, but she took after her mother, too, didn't she? Did I do something wrong? Reverie felt her heart in her throat, felt it shattering there.

No, no, you - you could never do anything wrong, She wrapped her arms gently around Blossom. I'm the one who did something wrong. And I - I'll never do that to you again. I love you so much. Nothing will ever change that. Her eyes were hot with tears she tried to hold back for her daughter's sake. Blossom had been through enough. She didn't need the weight of Reverie's sorrow, too.

The answer was not one she wanted.

The proper way to go about things was to tell her “yes, you are wrong, here is why. Fix it and do better.”, then she could be right again. Reverie did not, she drew her in to an embrace and Blossom fought off her own tears, but not for the same reason. 

There was something wrong with her, there had to be. She was made for music, for light, for happiness, so why wasn’t she happy? Why did the world hurt her? Why did everything compound itself into a pain she couldn’t run from, couldn’t hide from, couldn’t draw breath without it creeping into her lungs? What was Blossom for if she wasn’t happy?

What was wrong with her, why wasn’t she happy?

I love you too momma. She croaked out.

I know you’re lying, I’ll fix it, I’ll fix myself.