Heron Lake Plateau when the night is done, you’ll vanish in the sun

 

you're ok!!! <3 <3 <3  glad to hear things have been good!

An eternity passes between them.  Each inhale, she is born again, each exhale she passses away.  Eventually her eyes open again, and Raven's expression has morphed into choppy stormwater.  She feels her heartbeat in her throat, in her ears.  One step forward and two — she wants to comfort Raven because it wasn't her fault — but was it appropriate here?  After that kind of confession?    The only thing keeping Ceara rooted to the ground is her respect for Raven's relationship with Quixote.  

"I... I'm sorry.  For being so clueless.  I didn't know."

Somewhere far away, there is a stormcloud limned in golden light.  It wasn't no, but that didn't mean it was a yes, either.  She can feel tears pricking up again but she blinks them away and turns her head as she makes an awful sputtering noise.  It's not — I mean, she falters, swiping a paw gently across the ground as she ghosts a step closer.  No, it's okay, it's not your fault.  It's not like it would have done any good anyway.  

She clears her throat.  If Raven would allow it, she'd make to press her cheek against the plush midnight fur at the other woman's and run her face down towards the base of her neck; a wolf version of a tender hug.  I don't want you to feel bad.