Stone Circle how we love is what will last

She freezes.

Like a pup awaiting reprove she turns slowly to face the keeper of cairns. Her spine curls in customary habit, her tail hangs low.

She does not know the significance of such a place. Does not understand how one is meant to treat the stones. She knows only that she’d felt compelled to acknowledge them, in some way.

“I’ve meant no offense by it,” She explains lamely, eyeing the silver girl from afar.