Phantom Hollow make thick my blood

‘  You   made   your   choice.  ’

The verdict had forged an ember resentment so thoroughly within her hurting heart that the searing, hateful ashes could be felt upon her tongue where words were meant to be. There were no words, though, and her chords remained strained, alight; so all Aurëwen could do was damn all and loose a perturbed, hoarse call for @Guildenstern as she marched ostentatiously from the riverlands, sick with indignant, ugly fire in the belly. 

She should not, would not ever beg forgiveness of it: the claim of the basilisk had been a means to the end, and she had not figured their ways entirely in the time she’d mostly  (somewhat, then!)  kept to that fated thicket. It had been the only known place in the silver’s mind to think of, so near to laboring — beyond that, and nothing more, and Aurëwen would remain unapologetic in her sights of such. 

But with each step into this unseelie hollow, the silver surmised that hers had been the ruin of whatever her family had become and also was not. Each step told her that the gargoyle’s words of  Diaspora is your home  was nothing more than a mockery, and his offer of returning therein to her children was nothing more in itself of—!

“What else am I to do with myself?”  letting herself, for once, be as ugly and as dreadful as she felt: she cascaded to the mists how she would never amount to be the unwavering, nuturing mother she’d once promised herself to be — her most recent encounter only furthered that she was the entire opposite. She swore away with friends and lovers, all of those that it was so pitilessly apparent she did not deserve for neither would be in her good company.

And the druid swore herself in the same breath, almost at her wit's end; lungs brimming over with her own melancholia that she knew would smother all near and dear and far and away. Only her request, an undeniably desperate  “Mentor me”  seemed to make sense, anymore; the hopeless, agitated gleam for some control in her life — to sunder those who rose before her, ill intents towards her person and to others. To kill.

To understand something she would know and never doubt in.