Jade Fern Grove chafa

His jaw flexed—no words came. She assumed him having cast her aside after the revelation of her true past—and he felt a pang within, that she believed him possible of that. He would have spoken as such—that she must have had an awfully low opinion of him to think it possible… but somehow, deep down, he didn’t believe that.

Yet, what did she even think when he insisted on returning her home from the desert? Had tried to save her, and she lunged at him, shrieking—wounding.

A brush of her warmth stirred him to focus. Her paw, barely grazing his—drawing his eyes sharp upon her features to try to study her, svelte frame limned against the dark grey of the rainstorm.

The valley is too full of memories, she said.

Was that her speaking, or Wren, who allowed her ghosts to haunt her? “Home is with those you love.”

A statement—simple enough. She had decided it was not with him, and his eyes fell now, staring to the cavern floor. Softly, then—trying to swallow the dryness in his throat, he wonders… “Can I listen to them, Silver? Feel them move?”

It was such an intimate request—but for one stolen moment, he could have wished the entirety of this had played out very differently.