Emberwood [m] I want to be known for my hits, not just my misses

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The participants have indicated the following reason(s) for this warning: Just... in case. Death, etc. He's also being helluva mean.

His eyes were hard on her—Reverie, trying to stifle her crying, and somehow, it unmoved him. When had he become such a cold bastard? Cynical? Hardened?

Perhaps, a part of him had also died with Moss. And with Ibis. And the countless others who had seen fit to simply just vanish.

“She deserved a lot more than what you offered her,” he countered, his tone clipped. Moss had deserved so much more than Reverie—than what life she had led at the creek. A silent guardian, who had tried to set the world right, and now…

Now she was dead in a swamp.

But there was nothing to hide for Moss’s whereabouts. If Reverie wanted the gruesome details of it, he would not withhold the information. His time of trying to protect her was long gone—she had made it quite clear what she thought of him. “Her body is in the marsh. We couldn’t recover her for a proper burial.” Because the marsh and muck had been sucking her down… in its depths. And their members had been wounded and stretched thin.

Instead, she lived on in Cygnet, now… A precious part of the woman who would be treasured in the creek. And who’s existence was not any of Reverie’s business—at least not from his lips.