Fairspell Meadow there is no pain; you are receding

He felt it. A tenebrous hold that snared his wrists and ankles, rooting him to the spot. It was easy to stand there and provide her the support she needed—physically and emotionally—but it was the sound of her voice that broke him down, little by little. He understood her trepidation as he held the same feeling inside himself. Titmouse looked upon the forest and saw the blackness of its body in the distance, saw it as a cancerous growth, and did not want to approach it any more than she did.

We don't have to stay for long, just a little while. Maegi told him. He nods, the puckered scar upon his throat feeling more prominent, though it was just in his head.

It wouldn't be forever. They needed somewhere to go that would shelter them. The gods knew of their sacrifice; the pyre that burned through their beloved. A home was what they were owed now but in lieu of that, shelter would be enough. He is silent as he slips away from her then—moving through the meadow like a soul in search of a body to inhabit.