Hushed Willows I'll stake rare toothpicks in my dirt-filled heart

The breeze carried with it the faintest beginnings of a weak howl. Reverie abruptly felt cold all over. She glanced to her husband only for a moment before she pressed ahead, and then — and then —

Blossom, There was blood. There was so much blood, and her daughter, her daughter; Reverie went to her thoughtlessly, only distantly hearing Boone. She saw nothing but Blossom, golden fur stained red, the tears in her eyes. She should have been here. She should have been with her. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, it's okay, I'm here now, She whispered as she nosed through her fur, searching for wounds. There were none. The blood was not Blossom's, but Reverie's racing heart only stuttered briefly in relief.

Finally her eyes found the other girl, and then Boone, shell-shocked and scarcely there at all. Get your herbs, he'd said. Reverie nodded belatedly, numb as her legs moved and the part of her which had once been a healer creaked and shifted and reached for control. Oh... The blood, it was all hers, this torn shadow of a girl — and she knew her — Mae? Her voice cracked.

Mae. Jakoul's daughter. This was Jakoul's daughter.

She tore herself away, nodding again, half to herself. Okay. Okay, I - I'll - be back, just keep her warm, um - Blossom, sunshine, come with me, alright? Reverie pulled her daughter close again, trembling a little. She should have been here. She should have been with her. She should have —

Reverie took a breath, steadied herself, and led Blossom away.