Jade Fern Grove chafa

perhaps part of the bleakest and most wonderful desire for a man was that one came to treasure time in their arms. silvertongue remembered how akavir had blotted her thoughts, riverclan, akashingo, everything; he would have eclipsed the sun for her had she even laughingly commanded it from him, and she wanted to lean against him now as the rain muted the land to watercolor hues and their warmth mingled in the space despite the fact she would not even allow herself to brush him this time. nothing he said was without merit, and drew from her a shivering answer. it was good, to waver beneath his eyes, to know she was safe to do so; to draw a breath that only shook because she allowed it to be heard. she could not bear the scintillating heat of that contact and its truth and its promise; she bowed under its great pull; "i came to — to ask if you wanted to join our homes together. but, akavir," and it hurt to breathe, to speak; "now i find the reason i came was to tell you i am going away from here, farther than i have ever been." the words galloped from silvertongue before she was able to rein them, but as she lifted her eyes to the raven once more, she knew it was true.