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

Raven sits motionless, lost for words, as helpless as a frigate tossed about on the stormy seas of emotion that rage inside her. She does not know what to say that can assuage Ceara's torment, yet she is terrified to speak the truth, the reality of things. Instead, she lowers her head and allows Ceara to press into her, the hug warm and comforting despite the potential implications that might accompany it. She sighs, lifting a forearm and wrapping it lightly around the Blackthorn's shoulder, and they remain that way for a moment.

"You know," Raven begins, her voice somber. "You're one of the best friends I've ever had." Golden eyes glance up at Ceara's face, so sad and beautiful. "I love you more than I love some of my own family. But I...I don't know how to be more than that to you. Not without breaking Quixote's heart." Her voice fades to a whisper on that last bit, as she realizes she would rather fling herself from a mountaintop than do anything to cause that sweet man an ounce of grief.