Hushed Willows But damn girl, since you've come around

Reverie had half-expected Akavir to reject her touch entirely, and had already been prepared to pull away in response to his tension when she felt his arm around her. They were each tentative, perhaps a bit awkward, but even so it felt — it felt nice. For just a moment, their contact existed as irrefutable proof that Akavir did not hate her, at least not so much that he couldn't stand to touch her.

She still wasn't sure if she was forgiven, but that was alright. She could earn his forgiveness. Arric had been right, after all; he was as much her family as Gunnar and Bjarna, and now she was realizing that Akavir was, too.

So it didn't bother her as much as it might have when he remained distant, when he disagreed, when he shifted away quickly and turned the topic elsewhere. Reverie surrendered the hesitant embrace easily, taking a small breath as she prepared herself for this new conversation. It wouldn't be any easier than the last.

I wish she had let Arlette help her, Reverie couldn't quite help the complaint, distraught as she was over the state of the girl's eyes. She reached out with a paw to press the herbs she'd brought toward Akavir, a silent beckoning for him to take them, and went on. She said she'd let you do it. I could show you how before you leave - I'll send some herbs, too, but I'm sure you have more at Swiftcurrent Creek... She was beginning to ramble, she realized; avoiding what she did not want to say.

The infection will heal. I - I don't know about her vision. She says she can't see much. Sometimes it... it comes back a little, once the eyes heal, but not fully. And that's not a guarantee, It wasn't a death sentence, not for a pack wolf. Reverie's heart ached for the girl all the same. What... what happened to her?