Sun Mote Copse A dream drawn from the sheath.

Then... he faltered, unsure of what he wanted to say or how to say it. Can we at least not leave on bad terms? You are coming back, right? Do you have any sense of a timeframe? Weeks, months, years? Now that they were talking about it, Phox realized that was the hardest part. The unknowing of what would happen after she left. Or maybe you could just stop in every once in awhile? he asked, canting his head to one side. His tone was softer now, and he knew she would be able to pick up on that.