Mudminnow River If I ever were to lose you, I'd surely lose myself.
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#13
Komme, schatz.

Mahler had affectionately dubbed Ciri and her sister many nicknames throughout their early childhood, each meant to soothe and encourage, and to hear this latest one roll from his tongue for her brought about a whole new wave of emotion. The swallow felt it swell in her throat and she closed her eyes tighter, eager to bite back feelings that she feared might bring her to ruin.

It was a form of familiarity, one that she'd tried for so long to find.

She pulled back at last, and sniffed sharply to clear her nose before swiping a tear-streaked cheek across a raven forelimb. The gargoyle awkwardly offered her meat then and although her travels had thinned her considerably, she felt his fumbling contagious. "I'm okay, I-" she paused to consider an excuse, "I'm just tired." Not entirely a lie, for her muscles screamed in demand for respite, but it didn't feel right to her to help herself to a gift meant for another.

"And then the world started to exist again,
but it existed very differently."
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