Stone Circle Fallen like hundred year old trees missed your body

And he listens. As intently as he can muster, he listens; Swiftcurrent Creek, Kvarsheim; a husband, lost; Saltshore, an accidental pregnancy that resulted in the petalbloom girl who walked with them. And it was a lot to take in, this mountain of information that now warped and stretched already in the chasm of his mind.
She had a husband. And he supposed it made sense, but they had—
For a long while, a long long while, he is quiet. Contemplatively staring with a knit brow and lips that part to speak before closing all over again, though never once does his grip on her paw shift. And after a lifetime of deafening, squirreling silence, he finally says; I'm sorry.
And he was. Because now, it made sense; now, he understood why she shifted with the tide and drifted in the breeze, why she had bothered to stay by his side, why she wept so often without a seemingly apparent reason.
Wordlessly, again, he leans forward to press the point of his chin to the crown of her head, and a noise is pulled right from his lungs. A laugh; a sardonic one, so quiet it must only have been felt. You didn't deserve that, he murmurs. any of it. You know that, right?