Blackfeather Woods Let my eyes be the rhythm

i'll go ahead and archive this.

a solemn nod is sent in flicker's way as she adds her thoughts to his rumination. wintersbane knows, as he knows the sun will rise and fall each day, that it might stop a battle but it would not stop a war. if they wanted blackfeather woods to pay for what had been done — whether it was one or all of them responsible — they would pay. he watches flicker depart before his gaze turns to relmyna, softening as it always does. for her. always for her.

something stirs in his chest as he looks upon her. warmth and an ancient sadness that is abrupt and a bit disorienting. he doesn't understand it. not now. i will. he promises, leaning into the brush of her lips against his cheek. you too. this trek would take him away from the woods for some time ( longer given what would take root a few hours after his departure ). he watches her disappear to and turns his head towards the borders now, heading to them and then over them on the journey to bide them some time.