Hushed Willows for he has cast down leviathan, the tyrant, and the horse and rider

her mother's easy happiness is a balm to her worries, and in this moment the ticking grows faint. "I like him," she offers at her mother's question, an easy enough statement. it is odd to have an uncle, when previously her only recognized family was her mother, but it is simple to see that he will never be family in the way that olive is. her mother pushes against her side and her intent is clear. cassiopeia is hesitant a moment before she resigns to her mother's invitation, and moves at her side deeper into Elysium. it seems a place far from warlords and blackfeather, hunger and empty solitude, and between the willow trees she can imagine nothing but peace and good lingering here. it is a sanctuary, and while she is content to be here, she has been shaped into something, somebody, who can not linger here long. 

"the north, the sea," she offers, pausing before elaborating. "I like the coast. it is terrible and beautiful at the same time, and the sea almost seems alive, sometimes." vaati is there, by the water. it seems more his place than the woods ever where, but she does not elaborate on that particular attraction. "I've seen great fish thrown up on the shore, the size of a hill." the ocean was perpetually interesting in the treasures it threw at random upon the strand. the north was perhaps beautiful in its own way, populated by those strong enough to survive the conditions, great warriors and hunters. for some time, she was content to wander there, but the desolate cold lost its appeal. sidelong, she notices from the corner of her eye her mother's waist. it is not as high-tucked as she remembers it, and the slight swell of her sides confirm her sudden realization. "mother, you're pregnant!" she pauses in her step, confirming with another look at olive. her muzzle curves, and the silence asks elaboration.