Hushed Willows sávvato

Little by little, she seemed to warm to him. This was always a new feeling: being seen as just a man, and not as some saviour seen through eyes of expectation and disappointment and envy and hate. In the world beyond the Gilded Sea, he was just Everett, and frankly, just Everett was all he wished to be.

It is what it is, he said to her apology. Her nerves seemed to get the better of her, so he met her again with the warmth of a smile, Thank you, he gave to her offer - and yes, he wished this place to become home for him. For good, this time. And I'm blessed to finally be here with her, too.

A pause while she thought. Everett thought her eyes went somewhere else; they glazed with that look of an all-familiar feeling. Thoughtful, as one drifted out from this world and into one locked away. That recall of memories, some still sitting in the light, others pushed to corners that could be dealt with later. He could wait for her to find the ones she wished to share. And wait he did, tail curled against his side.

And what she shared sent a sharp prickle up his spine.

Oh - his mouth parted, looking for something more to say, but all he found were Reina's eyes searching the depths of his own, and the weight of what she shared, fallen across his shoulders. His heart thrummed. Shock? Sadness? Anger? A mix of those, and many more; the tempest swirl he hadn't felt in many long days - but not for her to see. If anything slipped out, his gaze softened to one of compassion, though a hardness still lingered along his brow, I am so sorry. There are many good men, but some do wicked things. If I may ask... what of him now? Had he escaped? Did he still loom at large? Or had they done away with him for good?

The former gave room for repentance - risky, but a hope for reform. The latter gave vindication, a just and final blow. He wondered what Hearthwood had dealt.

She distracted him by a nod towards the cave, at which he turned, having forgotten his plan to enter it only some short minutes before. He had, in fact, wished to explore it, and still might. But the mention of a bigger cave had him turning back to her - and at the mention of singing, his eyes lit up. You sing? and her laugh brought a stretching smile, Mmm, they may listen well, but I've known them to be rather lacking on their standing ovations, he quipped back, do you make your own music? Or did your family have songs they passed down to you? Either is good, of course, of course - I'm just curious. I, ah... well, I may have dabbled in the art myself, from ah... from time to time.

From many times to many times, every day, for many hours when he was younger, but she didn't need to know that yet. Maybe never; he didn't want her to know. It would only lead to questions, and unlike Reina, Everett wasn't ready to be so vulnerable to share.