Hushed Willows Did you hear my covert narcissism I disguise as altruism?

It was the scream that caught her attention first.

Reverie went still, hackles lifting in a surge of fear and instinct. Another stranger wandering through her trees — how rude! Immediately she pursued the foul-mouthed source of the sound, half inclined to call for Boone. But Reverie was sure she didn't need to be protected; she could handle herself. Right?

But what she glimpsed through the trees wasn't what she'd expected at all. Reverie slowed a little as the woman came into sight, a little startled. The stranger was around her own age, and very pretty — but Reverie quickly discarded that notion. She was learning, slowly, not to look at others. It had occurred to her that if her husband turned appreciative eyes on another, she would not be able to forget the sting of it. And so she tried only to think of him.

Hello, Reverie greeted a bit warily, too frazzled by her conflicting thoughts for anger or aggression. Are you alright?