Cassiopeia's View Grass is greener right?

A firm forearm draped over her withers and Olive felt her body melt into his. She laid heavily against him, giving him the weight of her body, and reveled in the sturdiness of his support. It was then that she realized the power of touch — of his touch. It was almost as if every one of her problems had evaporated, or taken a backseat, or were put on the back burner, or something but few things in the world matters as much as the dark knight, embracing his pale lover. They were bent, but not broken. 

Dakarai, bless his heart, continued to worry about the things that Olive gave no thought to. He mused on Moonspear’s unlikeliness to reaccept him and proposed an alternate plan — one that involved him leaving her side once more. That was not going to happen.  The fae’s pulse quickened at the thought of her impending lonliness, and she knew [at that point] that she would have to voice an unpopular opinion. It was one that she continued to reckon with every night as she laid alone in their den, and still was incredibly painful to admit… but, as far as Olive understood, it was the truth.  

“Baby, no.” she pleaded, pejorative eyes reaching deep into his own. “They didn’t have to leave. It was… both their own decision.” That’s what was so painful about the entire situation —  no one had forced Aries and Cassiopeia from Moonspear’s borders. They had left on their own accord, just like Dakarai had mere weeks before. It just wasn’t safe to assume that they wanted or needed to be found; perhaps this was just how her children grew up and how they decided to fly the coop. If they hadn’t come back by now, they likely weren’t coming back — and there was little the two lovers could do about it.

Olive huffed, her own thoughts creating a very uncomfortable reality. She struggled to maintain faith that she and Dakarai had raised their children well enough to survive on their own, but there was nothing to be done about past misdeeds. “We can make them stay no more than I was able to make you stay. If they want to come back, they will.” Olive regarded Dakarai carefully when she said this, uncertain about how he would handle these truths. The man was hot blooded, after all, and she was not keen to anger him so soon as his return. She turned down her gaze and preened the velvet fur on his chest for a moment.

“We have another chance, my love.” Olive picked up her slender head, as if to signify that her next words were not just hopes and wishes born from a lovelorn heart — she had though about this, too, for some time. “The weather turns colder by the day…” With a sweep of her muzzle, she managed to capture the movement of the autumns winds. “My heat will return. We could… try again.”