Seaside Moors echèk

while mireille sat, maleah drifted further into the moors in search of some sort of calming agent. she sifts through mud and snow and somewhere finds the roots of a gentle herb.
eat this, she says with a nudge, the gold of her eyes turning to glass with fondness and shared pain. it'll keep you calm, and your head clear.
it was all she knew to do. if she could, she would have swam to the edge of the sea itself.
maybe they didn't make it out this far.