Shadewood all the saints of notre dame

A small huff escaped her as she turned her eyes upon her mate. Her lips curved upward and her tail swung. Masque stayed still as he pressed his crown against her face, nipping fondly at his whiskers when he eventually retreated. His query was met with a slightly distracted expression.

I think that when I pictured our children earlier, I saw them here and not at the rise, she admitted softly. Riley, she said in the very next breath, head tilting to hold his gaze, I was ready to tell you I think we should go back, even though I’m not sure what kind of welcome we’d receive. But then I thought…

Her brow furrowed. Masquerade paused to collect her thoughts and sort out how to articulate them. She sighed out another breath.

It’s not really about the literal backdrop: the rise vs these woods, for instance. But I don’t want to raise our children in a place that feels so unstable. No matter how much I miss them—and I do, I miss them so damn much, Riley—I can’t sacrifice the future for the past.

She shook her gray head. Did any of that make any sort of sense? Her face fell and her head dropped, though only momentarily. She dragged her golden gaze back to Riley’s, begging him to help her decide for them, once and for all.