Hushed Willows We're taking a break. It's nobody's fault.

Harlyn had kept to herself for much of the time since the incident. Most of it was her body's need for rest in order to heal from the still ugly wound upon her leg. The rest was driven by her worry and fear for Pippin, who had yet to return home to them since it had happened. Resentment broiled in her stomach at Tavi for this fact. Her son had been weak and fragile for many weeks and had barely begun to recover. And now he was gone, away from them, out there in the wild somewhere, all because the woman had been too foolish to restrain her baseless paranoia. Harlyn understood perfectly well the fear of losing a child that had driven Tavi, senseless as it had been in that particular incident, but who was it now that spent the days without her son?

She had abandoned the communal den that day out of a basic inability to not sit idle while Pippin was missing. Pain still moaned in her joints and she could put no pressure at all upon her injured paw, which still bled at the tear that would not heal. Still, she forced herself to roam, slowly, painstakingly, eyes always focused on the terrain for those two hot whiskey eyes that she missed so desperately. Her little Pip. Her sweet little sparrow.

The druid was not surprised when she spotted Stark trailing after her when she looked back from her perch upon a small rise that overlooked a small patch of young willows. She had known that this conversation was coming, for why and how would Tavi ever handle this herself? She sat heavily in place and decided to wait for him to reach her, for she was exhausted anyway even after going only so short a distance. Silently, she prayed to the gods for strength in this next endeavor, for her little journey was likely nothing in comparison so the significants of what would happen next.