Whitebark Stream To return from the ashes you call

Not his fault. Bhediya’s, Minnow’s, her’s. For a moment, she want to set fang against him as they had when they’d been young. This — the journey here, all she’d sought to create, had been for him. For all of them, this fresh start.

But his words pressed sharply against the tender spot of her conscious, and so she could offer no sharp words in return. “You’re back, now.” She offers, but further words die in her maw. How can she offer anything more, when she doesn’t know how long this will last? She’s sick of it, the disappearances, reappearances, worry, heartache, relief. Rinse, and repeat. A smile, then, weary around the edges. “Minnow’s still here. Valiant has a habit of turning up. Things — we’ll be fine.”