Dawnlark Plains white sun, the upswing

✹☾❂

 

Eleuthera also came from a culture that was big on loving touch and communal love for all living, feeling creatures — so Dante’s embrace was fully welcomed, and warmly returned. It was at that moment that Eleuthera felt flooded with a series of complex emotions, from extreme sorrow to blithe gratitude, to simply being seen and supported by another wayward soul in this world. Things in life didn’t always go according to plan, but there was something about this experience that hinted it wasn’t going to be all bad, forever.

Eleuthera did not let herself weep in front of this man, but she did linger in his silent support for a moment with languid, closed eyes. No one could see it, but a soft smile slipped over her lips despite the nature of the news she just shared; a smile that she was certain to wipe away before she unlatched from Dante’s embrace. She wasn’t sure if she should continue her lamenting — or if she had already used up the amount of goodwill she was allotted from this stranger.

In the end, she plodded right along.“I just can’t believe he’s gone," she cooed woefully, standing abreast this soft cloud of a wolf, looking towards her side at him. She heaved an honest sigh, and looked out to the trees that stood just before them. “I’m here to see the place we grew up. I — I need to see it again." The hushed willows were the whole reason she came back, wasn’t it? Blinking in the night’s darkness, she backpedaled from Dante’s side a dancing step or two. Wasn't it...?

“It’s a grove of willows, unlike anything you’ve ever seen. It should be nearby, I think..."