Dragoncrest Cliffs Spindrift

She cast him a watery smile when he nudged the freshly bared grouse to her, though she couldn’t bring herself to take a bite just yet. Instead, she bent an ear, taking comfort in her husband’s familiar, accented timbre. She felt validated when he reassured her that her feelings and her tears were both valid, though Meerkat still wished she hadn’t discouraged Mercy. That wasn’t the sort of mother she wanted to be.

But the wash of her tears and her sniffles both came to a sudden stop when Njord suggested one of them accompany their daughter. Perhaps, in different circumstances, she would have entertained the idea. She probably would’ve decided against it, in the end, as it went against her principles nearly as badly as trying to get her to stay home. If Mercy wanted to go, it was her decision to make, even if her young age did make it harder.

But it was all moot because nearly the instant he suggested it, Meerkat breathed in sharply and said, No. Her eyes lingered on him, sharp and bright. Absolutely not. You and I will never be part again, Njord Sveijarn-Corten. Somehow, her voice managed to come out tender and severe all at once, the tone of it absolutely brooking no argument.