Hushed Willows oh, the earth fueled the flame

While the older man was watching the boughs, and the light which trickled between them, Tavi was watching the ground. She hummed a little tune to herself; being in high spirits was odd for her, but she had woken with a great need and Stark had satisfied that need. Now, wearing his scent upon herself without caring who knew it, she patrolled through the willows. As she came upon one of the large and weeping trees she noticed its familiarity, and for a moment her humming stopped. It was the tree where her firstborn had been buried — by Kunik if she remembered correctly — and with a dulled sigh, she paused before it.

Not two minutes later, she was drawing away from the tree's roots and the bare spot of earth where her son rested. She was sluggish in her escape from that place, and her eyes lingered a bit too long on that bare patch - as if it were the bald head of a great uncle you knew you had to love, but didn't see the point. As she moved towards the borders, Tavi felt the excited thrum of her blood begin to dull, and by the time she sighted the older wolf, she was her old morose self. She did not say anything when she saw him though; only watched, and gave a small bob of her head if he caught sight of herself.