Hushed Willows friends let's commiserate

For @Nova Rose and @Stark -- slight pp, hope its ok.

She had thought about it for a while now, laying awake while watching Tambourine sleep. Seeing the fleeting figures of wolves come in and out of the crook, either to deposit something for her or to rest, they were always silhouettes. And those silhouettes made her think of Reek, over and over. None of them made her think more of the man than Stark, who held the same complexion and knack for wit; and so it was he she called first. Leaving her son tucked carefully among the shadows and stones, she departed from his side for only a few minutes, and slipped away from him - not far, just to the entrance to the Crook where the sunbleached stone glowed with summer light. 

There, Octavia looked for the dark man. She bayed in to the surroundings, watching the thin tendrils of naked willow branches sway limply all around; then, noticing a flash of gold and cream in her periphery, she turned and caught sight of the elder woman, Nova. Good, you're here too, she murmured, more to herself than the nearby company, and tried to catch her eye. Hopefully Nova would notice her swiftly, and maybe Stark would not be far behind — she had a mission for the two of them and wanted to get things over with lickity-split, so she could return to her (probably cold) son.