Moonspear you wouldn’t leave 'til we loved in the morning

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Dakarai was a moral and just man, even when being cut most deeply. The knight had made promise and, in his own gallant way, he would uphold it. For a moment the mother could only blink, unsure if this, once again, was Dakarai giving her the things she did not deserve. His kindness was wasted upon her, as she could never reciprocate their love in the way they both wished to… but one look at Dakarai spoke the truth. No — this was not for her sake. It was for their children.

Olive hauled in a breath and held it for a moment, letting her exhale flow out through pursed lips. Then, the pale woman closed her eyes and nodded in earnest. “I will stay,” she corroborated, albeit with some effort. The mother loved her children, more than anything in the world she loved them — they were born of her womb and created from a place of nothing but innocence and love — but there was a small part of her that wished to run: to flee from this life upon the mountainside, this tangled mess of a life, and to feel true freedom once more. 

Freedom from responsibility, untouched by love. 
Reborn, rededicated and married to the path of higher understanding.

It was tempting, but perhaps the god’s path was to keep her on this mountainside — it would be more difficult to have to say no, every single day, to look at Dakarai and face her infinite loneliness and knowing just what she had stood to lose… and all that she had lost. Every time the druid looked at their son and daughter, every time his scent wafted past her sensitive nose, always tuned for the sweetness of the dark night’s cologne — to fight her instincts that had driven her to Dakarai in the first place. 

“I will create no barriers between a father and his children… especially when the father had the highest caliber of spirit.  

Yes, despite it all she would stay, raise them, and hope the god’s bloodlust was sated by the sacrifice of her own heart — and would require nothing more the star-crossed lovers and their innocent babes. Olive sighed and furrowed her brow in concern, wishing that he would somehow come out of this with a high opinion of her, still. If a low opinion was needed to dissolve their attachment, then so be it. Her eyes, muddled with tears, attempted to focus on the atramentous silhouette's features — and failed. Deafetedly, Olive hung her head and looked at the earth that  swung beneath her gaze. “We must be strong for each other.”

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