Stone Circle Love from the other side of the apocalypse

Her youngest sister was a pale star against the landscape, a warm gentle light like a guiding beacon in the snow. Home. Bjarna greeted her with a smile. Always with a smile. Reverie was hurt by it, and hurt again that she felt this way. She smiled too, but it was a sad smile, and her embrace was a wilted and hesitant thing when she swept forward to greet Bjarna properly. How could she tell her that she wanted to leave? How could she love her so endlessly and still feel so empty, so desperately wanting?
I've been a terrible sister, A whisper like a confession into pale fur, but surely Bjarna already knew. I thought this could be home. I thought - so many things. Reverie fell silent, because she knew Bjarna couldn't understand, and she knew that it would be terribly unfair to continue. It would only confuse the girl, maybe distress her, and Reverie was desperate enough to acknowledge the opportunity to vent without really having the conversation she still wasn't ready for, but she wasn't selfish enough to take it. She wished desperately that Bjarna could understand, that they could have a real conversation. But they couldn't, so she only held her and hoped she would understand that, above all else, she loved her.