Stone Circle Have you any dreams you'd like to sell?

A look so subtle, but there. Clear enough for her to clench her teeth and bite down on her own despair.

Does he know? Is she so translucent under his sky eyes? And what is this feeling like guilt that riddles about her shoulders, perching like a crow waiting for her heart to rupture so they can pick at it?

She steadies herself on shaky ground, the excitement of seeing him again foiled by a shame of seeing him again- and a pure, terrible confusion.

If she thought she could, she’d tell him everything she’d learned in the span of time when they existed separately. That it’s not easy being grown, or in a pack, but that she’s trying. That she is enamored with a man named Fig, that she expects she is carrying his children. But that she thinks of their kiss; remembers the storm, and his adventures. And she’d tell him that a part of her would wish to follow where he goes, to see the things he’s seen and climb the mountains no others have. Are such feelings allowed to subsist at once?

But she’ll temper beneath his smile, return it, and shift to admire his new summer coat.

“And you! What are you doing here?” She laughs and frisks around him. “This is my pack, now,” She adds a little shyly.

“Welcome to Kvarsheim.”