Jade Fern Grove one but not the same

Welp, that clearly wasn't the right thing to say. It was hard to miss the tone that turned up in her voice, but the reaction was by far the better indicator for him. She was still for fleeting moments but they soon gave way to something a bit more alive and animated. Uncertain of what was to come beyond her exclamation, Pasha had tentatively taken a step away.

And then she launched into a story. But not just any story, he learned as he listened. It was her story, what had brought her there. His ears laid back against his head as she spoke of the fire because he too, remembered fire. Perhaps not in essence of feeling the heat hot on his nape, but he remembered the lightning. He remember why they had left their home on the mountainside all that time ago (which wasn't really that long ago).

"Oh," he said, almost dumbly at first. "Our home caught on fire once too. That's why we live here now. Why the forest is ours." As for the rest of what she said, well, he didn't know how to comment on it. So he opted for the same response he had all those times Swift had shouted at him for trampling plants: "Sorry."