Blackfeather Woods bitter pill

The poppies. He remembered that moment keenly, even through the fog of his own self-medication and all the terror of the past weeks. He had been so afraid in the cave but that was nothing compared with the thought that she wouldn't survive the poppies — that she would leave him all alone. Maybe he had left as a sort of rebuttal; Mou didn't know why he'd done it really, but he thought of that moment easily and it felt like his heart wasn't a part of his body. Like it was still on the island.

M'gee s'deh, he sighed in to her fur. Mouh s'deh an' M'gee — wh.. whee, whee s'deh. 'Ome now. 

He knew talking was pointless but he tried anyway. He tried to convey something in his screwed up way about them — about her, and him, and this place — and about how they didn't have to go anywhere ever again. Maybe she wouldn't understand. He should've practiced more, Mou thought.