Bitterroot Valley subterranean homesick blues

she allows a smile to press lightly against her lips at his observation, instantly appreciative of someone who also treasured the earth's brazen displays of beauty. although she wasn't sure if it were possible for anyone with sight to not feel some sort of awe at the flamboyant array of vibrancy embracing them. "i'd go so far as to deem it breath taking" she agrees, blinking back to focus upon the verdant gleam shining back at her. there was always something so inviting about green eyes, from those that shifted like murmuring foliage to the sharp ethereal bite of flinted mint and all that lingered delightfully inbetween. yet a new ache would always unfurl within her chest now when faced with what she found so enthralling, for even if she tried to think only of west and clay, or the mystical boy from the moonspear mountain...her papa's face would always cross her vision. proud emerald set magnificently within the shadowed clutch of his sable fur. yet it is as soon as she guiltily shoves the image away and admits the want to simply appreciate nature with a boy that knew nothing of her or her situation that the earth would chuckle and croon with a cruel shift of air. 

the stirring would finally unleash the scent that had hidden behind pungent scents and she'd blanch lightly as it wrapped tight claws around her. he was from whitebark stream...her struggle to regain a face of neutrality amongst the sharp pain that scent shot through her was abandoned as a new panic rose within her, what might this boy's presence mean for alsek? and as if summoned, the boy's shrill call would sound from a rustling clump of purple. "i'm...here" she'd let out meekly, casting an uneasy look at their company as the little blackbird took notice of him and kept close to her. her own ears would lean back against her head at his exclamation, any hopes of him not realising who alsek was unraveling away. except..."chhotu?" she'd repeat with a confused frown, that could hardly be some variation of 'alsek' could it? unless they knew each other well and he had some sort of nickname for him, she's surprised at the sour twist to her chest such an idea evokes. 

for as he questions the child, she is suddenly aware that not only is she worried about him being brought back to that place of death unwillingly...she selfishly is not ready to let him go. the sense of purpose and duty that looking after him provided (not that she was all too good at it) as well as his blissful chatter about flowers and the like all had helped her keep ahold of the parts that had cracked and withered at artyom's words. plus...he was all the family she had around right now, in such a short time she already wasn't sure what she'd do without him. swallowing thickly, she'd murmur "he's okay" and because of him, i'm almost okay, please don't take him away.