The Bracken Woods we were diamonds, now we’re dust

It was odd, seeing Masquerade after all these months, like this.

She seems more demure, her steps are heavier, the silver gleam of her coat is subdued. There is no doubt in him that she traveled far—farther than the scope he could ever possibly search. The journey had stolen the brightness from her.

Or maybe that was the toll of pregnancy, he finds.

And it all made sense now. 

Any frustration or animosity he's held onto has unfurled into pity. He doesn't know what to think, or how to react—anything he feels is lost on him, his emotions swirl like a whirlpool within his brain. 

After what seems like an eternity, she turns.

There was nothing he could say. His gaze softens at her warmth, her face, the sound of her voice.

Silently, he embraces her in a hug; tense and stony, yet fiercely.