Hushed Willows oneiropólisi

It was hard not to laugh. Just a quiet thing, more a breath and the glimpse of a grin. Soft. Relieved. Happy, to be back in the arms of family. Happy, to have someone again. God did not make wolves to be alone.

Thanks, Rev, by all means, she could have turned him away. Would have had every right! After all, he'd turned away from her at every stop along the way. But maybe she had held out for him. Maybe she had simply been waiting for him to come to her now. Living her life - starting over - but ready to welcome him in, if the day ever came.

And it came.

I missed you, too, but there was more written on her face, and etched into the words she shared. The fate of the Isle crashed over him like the waves had once beaten the rocks along its harbour.

They rocked him.

Somewhere in the telling, he had sat down.

Oh, John. He closed his eyes. Widow. Oh, Caracal... widow! She could only be Heda - and Caracal. The children! A cry choked him, but only silence came. Within, the groan of a prayer, too deep for words. I was looking for one of the children, I didn't -- they rose in glimpses behind his closed eyes - all of them - until he could bear their faces no more. He blinked, and there was only Reverie, something terrible must have happened. Were you able to help them?

Choices, choices, always choices. Always someone he could follow, someone he could help. But Heda had John, a good man, faithful. She would be safe with him.

And Reverie - she had worried for him! Wanted to look for him, but he frowned and gave her a downwards glance. What happened to your leg? And he realized she seemed to glow with a different happiness, one he'd seen before - but this time, healthy. Radiant. Right. And softly, her belly curved, and every thought of seeing the territory, of Blossom and Boone, faded in the reality of - wait.