Cassiopeia's View Grass is greener right?

As much as Olive did not want to, she listened to Dakarai as he spun his tale of woe and misery — she seethed and raged, but she listened — and her tongue sat twitching and virile in her mouth. Though she lay still and pressed up against the earth, energy moved through her veins and gave life to the passions that had laid dormant for months. No longer was she a shell, but something hot and unforgiving! She thrust her gaze up towards him, jade eyes aflame, enjoying the intensity of her emotions and finally have an outlet onto which she poured her emotions; disappointments; frustrations. Finally, the loathing did not fall back upon herself. 

That felt good.

When Dakarai finished, Olive was almost too excited to continue her spiteful repartee. His story was a sad one indeed, but it was not enough to reason with the she-devil. Instead, his happenings only fueled her fire — as if it had all been his choice — and she knew it wasn’t at all his fault, and in her gut she still felt love for the man… but to return, now, with nothing but excuses and stories for her to reckon with? It angered her, yes, but for the first time since their unsettling reunion [but many, many times before that], Olive felt a sharp pang of guilt. Dakarai had returned, but what did she had to show? Their children were not grown, yet all had decided she was not worth their staying. The fae was clearly worthless without him beside her.

Olive huffed and pushed her petite posture from the ground, shaking her pelt to rid herself of the dirt — but also to distract her mind from one second longer. “and you thought you’d just… come back?” she hissed. 

“There’s nothing to come back to.” 

The silvered woman wondered if she should tell him about their children; considered keeping such an embarrassing failure to herself, but she could not — not to Dakarai. He had the strange ability to see straight through to her soul to glimpse the truth that lay underneath. He knew her better than she knew herself. Even if she was truthful, didn’t mean she wasn’t still shaking with anger at his betrayal. “You left your family to rot…” Did it occur to Olive that she, too, might have contributed to his leaving by keeping him locked into her rollercoaster 'will they, won’t they?' scenario? It had been the only reason she could think of, before now — but, at this moment, all the blame fell upon Dakarai’s broken shoulders.

Her frenetic mind flitted back to Dakarai’s wanderings — to all his favorite spots, except by her side. She, too, had visited the Altar of Twilight on more than one occasion, but had never seen him. “It might as well be the last time you saw Aries.” The boy had been gone for so long now. He had only been a pup when he disappeared, and now he was surely a man… if he was still alive. Olive did not like thinking of that. “He left when you did.” No, the coincidence could not be ignored. “Cassiopeia’s been gone…” The star dusted child left soon after her mother’s fated, suicidal bout of depression. Perhaps she had driven her own daughter away with her incapacities… but this, Dakarai did not need to know yet.“... for a long time, too.”

“They’ve all gone...”

Then, with the breaking of her rage, she saw the pain writ upon his gaunt features — the way he held himself so gingerly — the sharp angles of bones in his hips. The pain he wore on his exterior, she felt keenly in her heart. In this, too, they were together.

Olive’s voice was soft, shaky, and cracked at her sadness. “I was alone, baby...” Her eyes shimmered with a fresh bout of tears, but she did not know if these tears were of anger or of sadness anymore. Olive had spoken in the past tense, without meaning to — for her dark knight was here now and everything would be better, wouldn’t it?