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

She rests into Reverie’s touch, light on her mouth and stretching out her forearms contentedly. She wanted them to meet, too.

“Swift and Katla. Send Blossom in. They could use some roughing up,” she barks, knowing full well Blossom wasn’t the type of child to provoke them. The nornir had no clue how to parent, but she figured she’d rather be the type of mother to let her kids fall and pick themselves back up than to fret over every tiny scratch. Life was full of scratches.

She wants to ask of Lestan and what had happened to him, but she wouldn’t dare rip the fine smile from her lips. It was so clear in how she held herself that there was deep affection there for Boone.

“You deserve happiness too, Reverie. He sounds like a good one. It's obvious how he cares for you,” this time she reaches a paw up to her cheek and holds it there over her rounding cheeks. She wanted to feel her grin.

She shifts away sheepishly when Rev refers to Fig as her man. She might have thought of him that way, but she’d been too nervous to tell him that, and even hearing it aloud is as shameful as it is satisfying; like something forbidden. Her's. They were still learning eachother. He couldn't be her's, not before he knew how awful she can be. Not before she knew what his favorite thing to eat was. It wasn't possible to love a stranger- was it?

“He's thoughtful, and sincere. He has the deepest green eyes you've ever seen. But it was an accident,” she reveals with a little embarrassment. This must happen to loads of girls, trading their future life away for one lovely week. 

But everything that came after wasn’t. They made a commitment, and even if she didn't know truly how she felt, one thing was certain:

“I want the same fate as him.”

She’d probably decided this even long before that week came, back when she’d found a stranger in the woods who didn’t laugh at her small worries and who’d been honest with her when he had no need to be.