Stavanger Bay I know what they say, I know that they say that no one dies from love

Reverie nodded, her eyes still lingering on Blossom, but she was thinking now of Rose. The first sun of her life; the first great loss she'd experienced, the first time she'd ever truly wanted to die. That day in the cave had not been the first time, after all. How could it have been? She had known for a very long time what that hopeless feeling was like, what it could do to someone; the way it twisted everything into cruel shapes and deadened every nerve.
Rose had not left her by choice, but through death. It had hurt less, somehow, than losing Lestan. Her gaze flitted away from Blossom, out to the sea, and the hurt crept into her expression as it sometimes did. She turned her thoughts toward the trip she hoped to take soon, but it hardly helped. Perhaps they'd visit the burned forest, see the flowers there. Maybe they would find a treasure to take home; Blossom was gathering quite the collection via her doting parents, it seemed. Reverie, who had never been allowed such frivolous things as a child, found great joy in giving her daughter this experience. There was jealousy in it too, though rarely; sometimes she found herself running a paw over a certain sand dollar and wondering what it might be like if she had gone to see Ashlar, after all.