Hushed Willows [m] I'll grow bitters on the borders of your whistling skin

Oh! He'd been sleeping! Reverie's ears dropped momentarily, but she hoped that her gift would be worth it in the end. She went to him, pressing her muzzle gently to his cheek for a moment. She was careful with him, always careful since she'd — well. She wouldn't risk a repeat. Sorry I woke you up, She whispered, tail swishing guiltily at her hocks.

I made something for you, Reverie added with a little gesture toward the antler. Her tail picked up its pace, though she tried to stifle it, vibrating where she stood even as she fought a terrible case of the wiggles. It had taken her so long to spot the perfect gift for him! And she still wasn't sure whether he'd like it. So Reverie watched him carefully as she led him to where the antler sat in the light.

After a moment, she thought to advise very seriously: Don't eat the flowers.