Swiftcurrent Creek We can both pretend it's the first time

Reverie returned to Swiftcurrent Creek at a painfully slow pace. Blood was dried into one side of her flank, her face, her legs. Blossom was less fortunate, her golden fur turned all spiky off-brown so that she was hardly recognizable. Reverie's blood, all of it. She was just too tired to clean Blossom a third time, or herself at all.
She saw @Moss even before she neared the border, radiating tension as she stalked along the invisible boundary, and something small and weak came fluttering to life in Reverie's chest. Something like love, perhaps, but she was too tired to analyze it now. All she knew was that Moss was here, waiting, as she'd promised. And Lestan was not.
Her legs trembled slightly as she closed the distance. She felt as if she might faint at any moment, and so when the space between herself and Moss had dwindled nearly to nothing, she set Blossom at her own paws and sat down hard. Nonetheless, she offered Moss a tired smile.
Her name is Blossom, She said softly. Isn't she beautiful?