Stavanger Bay The poison in my soul

Thistle listened as he told her to stop worrying about it. To stop beating herself up, and she stopped on the outside at least. Though on the inside was another story. She knew there had to have been something she could have done right? She could have gone there more with food or herbs or just to offer to sit for a moment with the children. She could have started search parties immediately for the parents? Any or all of that she could have done. That is true. She grew quiet again.

He was silent after she had approached him, and she stiffened involuntarily, steeling herself for rejection. However, it did not come and she softened a bit. She leaned into him and sat down curling her tail around her paws brushing his paws as she did so, close enough that she could touch him, without being to distracting. Her lips twitched at his words, honestly it would have been disappointed to hear that before, and in a way it still was. But Thistle knew all to well that her husband was not a romantic man, and she could and would take what she could get, even if it included being left without the pretty words most liked to here.

She did not move but she did look at him and continued the conversation. She had told him the truth, she knew they had much to discuss, she merely wanted to let him know she had missed him. Give him a little good news, in light of all the bad. What do we need to do other than move the children? Should we search for them or their bodies if that is the case?