Wheeling Gull Isle just you and the moon on my skin

While she has never been one to find good ways to offer her feelings - not in words at least, her husband and wife had the silver tongues and she the clumsy cadence of a child trying to recite Shakespeare - Hemlock is still almost expectant that Arturo will stay silent in his emotions. She doesn't say anything to his quiet hum of agreeance (certainly not indifference to the grieving widow or widower, no doubt) but she lets out a near choked sound of relief at having him close. It's been so hard she can't imagine the whirlwind of what has been. It's not even two weeks and they had lost Lotte and been given their children, only to never have their Äiti gaze upon them with living eyes. "I know I have been difficult." And in this shame Hemlock did as she often did, her gaze falling from his eyes to their children where she didn't have to face his disappointment. "It is....it is like losing Palisander all over again. It is...it is more even, for all we had endured together." Hemlock had seen so many of the most poignant moments of their lives through - seeing the children born, watching them rule their pack, joining them at it's helm - watching as Lotte's form stilled and cooled and then ensuring she rested eternally. 

"I will not change my name this time. I will not lose the Hemlock you know in someone else. I left Isley in Palisander's grave but....but I cannot do that to you. Not again." Hemlock looked back up to him - ensuring that he knew she was sincere. That she was honest. She might have wanted this family more than anything but she could not offer them right then - she felt right then that she had nothing else to give. 

His silence is near damning and Hemlock wrapped herself around the children, nursing them as they needed more sustenance. After a period she dozed off herself as well, although her sleep was restless and uneven despite having Arturo close for the first time in so long.