Swiftcurrent Creek [m] hope ur okay

A lot.

It was all that could truly be said for the days that had blended to weeks—it had all been a lot. Wren healed from the attack, Arric was bedridden from sickness—Jakub remained missing, and now Nicodem. Mae was flighty at best—yet at six months, he could do little to reign them in compared to how he used to.

And still, the haunted look of pain and dismissal Silvertongue had given him made it’s appearance from time to time in the moments he did sleep—exhaustion had won.

So when he sought out Eshe, realizing only now the two had barely made time for one another—he berated himself once more for dropping the ball. For never being enough.

And when he found her slumped to the floor, worry blossomed in his chest, constricting him, but he was to her side swiftly, nosing at her. “Eshe,” he murmured, struck now by the unfallen tears that flooded her eyes. “What’s wrong?”