The Heartwood Ashen Remains

A small glimmer set about Vale's eyes as warm admiration enveloped her words, Be that is it may, it's a noble thing to do! Healing. It's wonderful you can find enjoyment from it. A slight sway to her tail, she quieted down as Bridget answered her question. A secret followed by a quip.

Not exactly, no! Vale's voice rose into a soft laugh. A good natured sound to accompany Bridget's own chuckle. She broke her gaze toward their path again, blinking slowly. Allowing a pause in the conversation.

It wasn't a completely foreign feeling to her. Watching the life of someone you care for continue on while you are on the other side of the window pane. To be welcomed at the dinner table but knowing your seat is the one reserved for guests. 

Vale glanced sidelong at Bridget. They both shared a similar feeling but the differences of their experiences were stark. Vale once had her own seat at the table. With her father, mother, and littermates. As time marched forward they were met with loss. Soon after, her mother's seat was given to her father's second wife before it had grown too cold. When Vale gave up her place at the table, it was long anticipated as a milestone of adulthood. Hers was a gift granted before it was returned to be a hand-me-down. Comparatively, Bridget was waiting outside with no key to the door. Ringing the bell to be let in.

Vale looked to Bridget again. I hope you can find your closure, and a happiness all your own. A hopeful smile set across her face. Afterwards, perhaps you could recount any adventures you had on the way for your friend.