Hushed Willows [m] Never gonna allocate all of this dark hate

While she liked the Hushed Willows, Wayfarer was not so sure that Hearthwood could ever truly be a home to her.

A base, perhaps, like how she'd ultimately come to view the glacier in the final months when her family was falling apart at the seams. The wanderer much preferred the idea of calling the woods that instead of "home", which sounded so... certain? Final? Wayfarer was in no way prepared to settle, but she wanted to try and make the best of her time among the wolves of Hearthwood.

Reverie made her want to try harder - be better. Wayfarer recognised that as she happened across the gilded Coach at the lake's edge and lingered, allowing herself a moment to appreciate the way the Winter sun reflected a warm sheen on her coat. She carried on toward her and emitted a low note in greeting as she sidled in close, silently supportive as her amber gaze took in the serene quiet of the land stretched out before them.

I told you they'd be gone for Winter, she smirked at last, noting the absence of ducks from the water with a mischievous sideways glance.