Swiftcurrent Creek [m] half a mind that keeps the other second guessing

this was the danger of speaking to a woman of that pain held so harshly against her heart; silvertongue felt her eyes overflow and she lay back beside wren, gaze turned skyward against the canopies of argent birch, the hotness of her grief ekeing backward toward ears trembling against the earth. she reached for wren's arm, pulled it across her body; the weight of the limb more gilded in strength than her own gave the riverwolf perhaps the cojones to answer; "not an asshole," a soft laugh against the sorrow tremulous on her mouth; "a very gentle man, a very kind man. he saw me when i was — before riverclan. crowfeather has treated me as if i made him." a breath, skimming; she shut her eyes now. "but he has loved a man for just as long, and now, they have one another." and there was no place for silvertongue. she wanted to tell wren of how that had culminated, but feared that mention of the shadow-children would spoil the domelight of rosy hue that she and the other had built in this time.