Firefly Glen because you feel like a heartbeat

Something fragile inside of her, what's left of her heart maybe, breaks at his rose-colored promise. 

He means well but that aching, damned aspect of her - that intuitive, intelligent piece of her - knows he can't keep her safe. No one can keep anyone safe. Monsters don't hide under beds, they disguise themselves in wolf flesh; hell isn't waiting in death but here. 

"Please.." she hunches slightly as if to hold her fragments together, the word trembling with more brokenness than the angel's and devil's combined. 

"Don't," a forlorn grimace of a smile graces her lips as watery eyes lift to him. "Zis..vhat I am, it is nae yer fault," wispy auds shook in unison with her head as she denied him the blame. 

"Non," Awen repeats, slightly more sternly - if anything she ever did could be considered firm. "I vould never turn me back on a patient," she quipped, half flatly, as she attempted a better smile. 

Bundling the leaves she'd come for into the pelt, the sighthound twisted and lay it over her shoulders - giving them a little shake to nudge it into place. 

"Vould ye care to valk vith me? I vould like to 'ear abou' zese Black Cliffs...if ye are villing, of course." The fae's muzzle canted down gently, obligingly, though she very much hoped Memory would follow - that she hadn't ruined things so soon.