Little Goat Mountain So close, no matter how far.

He went on in explanation once more, and she maintained her silence. It did pain her to hear the names of the she-wolves he'd chosen, that of a son he'd gifted to the first of them; she could not deny the heaviness in the heart of her. Still, Ciri could not understand it. Chakliux cared for them, yes, and he protected them - but were they happy? Truly? She knew she couldn't be, to look upon his face on his return and wonder if he'd found comfort in the body of another during their time apart when she would yearn only for him.

The swallow mused over the confidence with which he spoke, and she thought how most men she'd encountered were so very alike. Her mind's eye conjured an image of her father's face and she thought sorely of how he, too, had fathered cubs to different she-wolves - and how they'd all suffered for it.

Ciri had long decided that she would not repeat the mistakes of her own parents.

There was quiet sorrow in her sunflower eyes as they held each other's gaze for a time. She would mourn this lost opportunity and her squashed hope, but not so deeply that she could not move on from it. I wish you peace for the future, then, she told him gently, despite the uncertainty of her own.