The Wall you should have forgotten my name the day you heard it

"Yes,"  the stricken murmurs, arching from the behemoth of a male to peer into the frostspun features with their brown, rabbitsoft eyes.  "But it is not homeward that I wish to go."  Home had been two that she did not wish to mull over; to fester within regret and the reality that would not ever be; the lie of her heart, and all that she had believed it beat for. No  -  this willowswisp did not wish to go home, did not wish to return to those very places where snide remark had turned to ash and to salt upon her tongue and within her lung:  "I wish to go to a mountain, where thunder meets its peak. There is a cave; a world beneath our own."  It does not occur to her that she has not once given her own name. Still:  "Would you walk me there? Please?"

Broke-heart; she no longer trusted herself to be without company.