Hushed Willows i’m just sitting here looking at pretty colors

✹☾❂

 

Normally, Eleuthera reveled in being accepted and experiencing camaraderie. The blooming warmth within one’s chest that happened when one was with a good friend was, in the lady of lilacs opinion, was one of the best feelings.  Eleuthera smiled sincerely, albeit weakly, at being a faerie when, once, she had been a seraph. She could not escape her ethereal blood — at least she had found another group with like souls. The fact that they were also in the Hushed Willows could be nothing more than divine providence.

But Eleuthera did not get to revel for long, because Orlaith then said one very true thing, and one very wrong thing. The truth was that these were not fond memories — the untruth was that, as Eleuthera understood it, was something akin to ’they deserved it.’ This, for a moment, gave Eleuthera pause — but she was willing to chalk it up to a misunderstanding in the hopes that, after her sadness passed, Orlaith might continue to be a close friend.

She could use a good friend, these days.

So Eleuthera continued on in their conversation. Perhaps she should have stopped, but she didn’t. “Well, it’s not even a memory, y' know?" the woman openly explained. “I wasn’t there. I’ve only been told about it." kind of like how she was telling Orlaith about it now; as if she was an outsider, and not someone who should be a corpse alongside the rest of her family. Eleuthera looked towards the firewoman, her eyes almost pleading.“The willows are not the impenetrable fortress that they seem. We must guard it." she implored. Orlaith said she was a guard — she would certainly understand. “Keep it safe. "