Stone Circle life is old there, older than the trees

Her word of forgiveness rested on his ears like the cool mercies of fall, and he knew, in that moment, he had a choice to make. Arlette's kindness did not surprise him, and neither did the welling sensation that he could not accept the grace she offered him now. He didn't deserve to be forgiven, didn't deserve to get off so easy, without making recompense or paying for his wrongs. The world simply didn't turn that way.

But as his sister continued, with talk of maturity, and loyalty, and a certainty of the man she'd always believe him to be - he knew these were the things he wanted to be, the things he wanted to be known for. He had failed once, no matter the reassurance she offered, and he feared he would fail again - but he had wallowed before, and this time, though he still felt so unworthy of this hope his sister extended, Merrit would do better. And so, the raven chose to believe himself forgiven, and so cleansed to start anew, and he nosed her back and allowed himself to feel that. To truly believe that.

"Thank you, Arlette," his quiet words still carried a heaviness, and he let his sentiments be visible in a rare display of affection, "You have grown to be a remarkable woman. I'm honoured to call you my sister. You are strong, and you are wise, and I haven't told you that enough." Truly, he felt like he had been all but absent for so much of her life, and he hated that he had - but again, he chose not to linger there, but rather continued with sincere and quiet interest, "Before I left you were studying to become a counsellor, weren't you? How has that been? Have you been learning much?"