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

Moss cast a glance to the wilderness, as though to warn even the rising mist and the lengthening shadows to keep their prying gazes to themselves. She would be eyes and ears, while Reverie sank into rest in her watch, the quiet child at her side.

A little plea rose, and Moss gently reached to touch the back of Reverie’s neck, willing her to feel comfortable enough to tend to her child while Moss kept watch over her shoulder. 

”I can only imagine,” The woman admitted, having never been a mother herself. ”How are you feeling? Tired? Are you in any pain?” She asked. The little one seemed content enough, finally receiving a bit of stillness.