Stone Circle Rest like you belong here with your damp hair, with your chest heaving

“I’ve missed you, too.”

Reclining in the leas with her friend is a peacefulness Kvarsheim has carefully cultivated all these months. The valley sundered witches and threats and now they are free to coalesce in the calm afternoon. She is weightless like a cloud and Reverie is sunshine.

“Two. A boy and a girl,” she spins so she’s resting on her back, looking up into the girl’s flaxen features. “They’re brilliant.” She’s certain that’s what all mothers say. But her’s were, undeniably.

The image of Rev attempting to smack Fig was admittedly funny, “I’d like to see that,” she laughs a moment before quieting, “no one has ever been better to me. He makes me happy.”

She paws lazily at the girl’s cheeks, “tell me about Boone.”