Thunder Dome plan a pretty picnic

Something about whatever Rue had said reminded Apple of a former mate. Apple lost herself in the story, which Rue did not mind in the least. Rue was not a talker herself, and so she considered it quite lucky that of all the people with whom she could have been trapped, the delightfully entertaining Apple had been the one to poke her head into the cave. 

Rue's head dropped to her paws, but her eyes remained trained on the woman, who was in the middle of a rather romantic story about a river crossing. Rue couldn't put a paw on exactly what was so romantic about the story-- she had never considered arguments especially romantic berfore-- so maybe it was just the way Apple told it, with that faraway look in her eye. Apple continued to recall (what seemed to Rue to be) the difficult times with her former husband, but the woman's smile never left. That was puzzling to Rue. Rue was young and she understood very little of what love was, but the picture Apple was painting was quite a stark contrast to the one she had conjured up in her mind.

Rue sighed as Apple fell quiet. Perhaps the woman was caught up in her memories, or she didn't realize that Rue was still awake. "I guess I always thought that love was.. flowers and kissess and romance.." Rue admitted, "And.. babies." Rue winced to herself. If baby-making was a necessary component, she doubted that she would ever experience love for herself. But then again, Apple seemed to have a different experience. If the older woman could recall her shouting matches with such fondness, perhaps that meant Rue was wrong about love. Perhaps there was hope for her, yet.