Bitterroot Valley on and on and on

It felt much too familiar; traveling with young children in tow. Had Olive known just how eerily familiar this feeling would be, she might have had more reservations about so relentlessly pursuing it — but she was here, with four young children, towing them across the wilds by mouth and by foot and by sheer force of will. It was great luck that most all of the children were in great spirits, especially the tempestuous @Eleuthera, and that the weather was mild and lovely. Had Olive not become so wracked with worry, she might have even been able to enjoy the scenery as Seabreeze was able to.

The unsettledness gnawed away at her core and at times, when she looked at her greyscale sister, she did not see Seabreeze but the hulking form of Dakarai, carrying their children as they absconded from Teaghlaigh with their lives. It was ridiculous, she knew, for their situation now was elective ( whereas that once wasn’t so), but there was something that lingered over the druid and this whole experience and she did not love it. She wished for this part to end, and for all other parts of their dream to come to fruition.

They had not encountered many others in their travels, thankfully — Seabreeze took the helm with directions, and Olive looked about incessantly for dangers or strangers — so when Seabreeze slowed somewhat, Olive deposited whichever babe was in her mouth and trotted up beside Seabreeze. “Are we close?” she inquired and placed her coal-tipped nose against her love’s velveteen, pale cheek. The sylph did not want to be a bother.