Swiftcurrent Creek Like a moth to the flame we become helpless

It is a familiar scent on the breeze that draws her toward the borders, though she scarcely trusts her own senses. She'd only caught a hint of it, really, faint enough that it could be a trick of the mind — but the sliver of a chance that it could be true is far too tantalizing to resist. Stranger things have happened, she's certain; what were the odds, after all, of ever truly finding out what had happened to Lainie? So she heads for the borders, trying to keep her itching paws from moving too quickly in pursuit of the scent. Keep your cool, she reminds herself, feeling a little stupid about the whole situation, but —
But then she sees him.
And then she loses her cool.
JEAN — It comes out louder than she'd intended, and she halts in place, voice faltering as his presence registers fully. Her brother. Here. She'd never imagined he would leave Spiritlight Falls, let alone come this far — and what is he doing sitting at the borders of her home? What — what the hell are you doing here? As the last word slips from her, she's reminded suddenly of her condition, and her own gaze drops briefly to her swelling sides. She sucks in a sharp breath and turns her gaze back to her brother, swallowing hard as her eyes heat in an infuriatingly familiar way; tears. Of course she's crying — that's exactly what she needs right now.