Swiftcurrent Creek Can't forget your style or your cynicism

She gathered her daughter up and trailed closely behind Akavir, doing her best to keep the rain off of Foxglove's fur. They moved in silence; Reverie couldn't help but wonder what Akavir was thinking. Was he displeased to see her here? Was he thinking of that day at the borders with Blossom now?

Reverie bit back the urge to explain further, to assure him that things were different now. That she was different. She wasn't sure why it mattered that he knew. Only that it did.

She hesitated only a moment outside of the den, glancing to Akavir with a slightly imploring expectation in her gaze. He wouldn't really leave her to get settled alone, would he? This had been her home once, it was true, but — but it wasn't anymore. And there were ghosts here, so many ghosts around every corner.

His call for Mae settled the question somewhat. Still... she looked into the den, then back at him as she carried her daughter into it. Her nerves were alight, and perhaps he would see it.