Herbalists' Cache Just dance; gonna be okay

Reverie had been quiet for some time after that night, when she woke up screaming only to find the rain answering her cries, though her silence was more awed than solemn. She stole wide-eyed glances at @Blossom, and herself, and @Lestan; the former, she marveled at, and the latter she edged into strange conversations in hopes of getting some kind of explanation for what had happened. Because she could not bear to tell him the truth, not when he seemed so tired and strained and sorrowful.
It had not taken her very long at all to figure out that she had forgotten many things. She didn't know when she had forgotten, or if Lestan already knew, and couldn't bring herself to ask. Was that why he seemed to be grieving, why he was here with her and not at Swiftcurrent Creek? And — Kvarsheim — ! Bjarna! Their scents were nowhere upon her, only a fading remnant of Swiftcurrent Creek.
How long had it been?
After a few days she began to recall some things. Not many. She remembered her daughter's full name, remembered that she loved her deeply. Reverie had even managed to sort out her last true recollection of Lestan, before this. They had been speaking — she'd told him of Tybault, and he'd said that name, the one she had sworn she would never be called again.
She was cleaning Blossom and staring at her with that wide-eyed expression again, some mixture of shock and fear and fascination. As if she had never seen her before. In many ways, it felt as if that were the truth, though Reverie knew that could not be true. She just wished she could remember what happened.

the rain went on. lestan did not think they would be followed, but it was a bitter little twist of satisfaction to know the deluge would make it far more difficult. reverie's screaming almost shook his resolve, had darkened his gut.
could he keep her safe at all? anywhere?
he remained somber, leaving her and blossom to hunt. three hours' time turned up a single rabbit, which he carried back to their temporary shelter with no small feeling of guilt. "here," lestan said hoarsely, stepping away to shake out his pelt.
"it will take us about a week, perhaps more, to reach the sea," he measured, and he did not like being in the taiga at all. "unless we sleep less, travel more."

The sea. Reverie hid her confusion in gratitude. Thank you, She murmured, resolving then to eat less than she needed while they traveled and perhaps leave Blossom with Lestan for a time to contribute to the hunting effort. A child, without the support of a pack! How had they ended up here?
But their daughter — isn't that strange? — seemed nearly old enough now to be started on meat herself, if only a little. She certainly had teeth, which Reverie silently lamented often, though she was surprisingly gentle with them for one so young.
We should do that, then. Travel more, Reverie was studying him, all the ways he had changed. She saw in him a new sadness, something that seemed to have made a permanent home with him. Had she done that? Or was it something else entirely? She reached out hesitantly to touch him, a light and passing brush that set her heart to racing. When we get there... should we look for a pack, or choose our own place? Could they sustain a place of their own? She realized immediately that if they were to try, she would need to do more. Be more. She could not let Lestan carry this burden by himself, whether she remembered what had brought them here or not.

"a pack first, i think," lestan said. he shut his eyes and slid a foreleg around her slender shoulders. in his sorrow and grief, in the hyperfocus he placed now upon finding a path, he had not thought to question reverie's new unsureties. did he not carry a half-dozen fresh kinds of his own? they would bear it together.
a place of their own; well. if his own cousin could think so low of him, then lestan knew others might as well. and the idea of being responsible for more than himself and reverie and blossom overwhelmed him a great deal.
"i've seen what can happen when you try to stake your own claim." and arric and akavir were each fighters in their own right! lestan was not this in the least. "it's not safe and i-i don't think especially, it's safe for blossom."

Reverie nodded, suddenly quite distracted by their closeness. She tucked herself closer, nosing through his fur with a secret glee for the fact that he was here and she could do this, just on a whim, just like that! No need to seek him out across the miles which had separated them from her last memory, or to stand at the border of a pack and call for him and wait.
Then we'll find a pack, She agreed idly, mostly for the sake of saying something. I've never been to the ocean before. Have you? Reverie was reminded then of her fascination with it, ever since Turmeric had described it to her. And she was torn, because as much as she loved the idea and wished desperately to see it for herself, she was far more fascinated by this wonderful closeness with Lestan.

he was quite morose, not mindful of his body in this moment. he was thinking of all the things akavir had said, how he had said so coldly that kel believed he could hurt reverie. this shame haunted lestan's very marrow; had he been so cruel? had he said things of darkness in his fever? if these things were thought of him, why had he been allowed to return to her? had all the pack known kel's opinion and treated them as an experiment? is that why the riverclan man had been so swift and casual in his dosing of reverie, because akavir believed it best?
his mind whirled with a thousand thoughts as he stared pensively into the landscape. "no. only close."

He was distracted, Reverie felt, by something terrible. Something was haunting him, and she was afraid to ask. She was supposed to know, wasn't she? Would it hurt him further to learn that she had forgotten? Reverie took to grooming him, and let the silence sit between them for a time while she cleaned the wilds from his fur. Mostly she did it to care for him, but the gesture was one of possession, too. Her scent on him so heavily would have unmistakable meaning to anyone they met, she thought.
What are you thinking about? She asked after a little while. It felt like a safe question, one that wouldn't give away too much. Reverie wished for perhaps the thousandth time that she could remember the days, the weeks prior to that horrible night.

lestan was silent, because there was no way to compress or translate every one of these thoughts into apt words. "akavir," he said at last, clearing his throat.
but he was not fit to speak on anything for now; he only pressed his muzzle against her shoulder and sighed out in a long breath. "why don't you sleep first. then i can, and then we will head off again."

I finally gave Rev a voice...

Still she did not understand what was going on, but Reverie accepted his answer nonetheless. Something had happened with Akavir, then, but what? Was he okay? She tried not to let her worry show, because she was certain now that this was something she ought to remember.
Alright, She agreed softly, still unused to how easily sleep came for her now. It was just one of many changes to herself that she had been forced to come to terms with quickly, and alone, and in silence. Yet she found no unhappiness in herself for that fact; she couldn't help but look to the things she was blessed with, a daughter and a lover who tried to take care of them both. Reverie had never wanted to be taken care of, but she could hardly blame Lestan for the effort.
Tybault had been right, after all. Left to her own devices, she would do nothing but wander and stare at the clouds all day. Except now she was not left to her own devices, and would never be, not with Blossom in her life. Now she had something to tether her to here and now, and so she would show Lestan that she was capable of caring for herself — and Blossom, and maybe even him too, if he would let her.
Reverie drew Blossom closer and settled down to sleep, hoping that Lestan would stay next to her while she did. Either way, her sleep was undisturbed when it came; peaceful in a way she hadn't been in a long time. And it was Lestan's name on her lips as she dreamed more sweetly than she ever had before; Lestan in her thoughts, in her heart, in all of her.