Qeya River tu el aire que respiro yo

maybe you should trust your wife more. akavir's words ring in her ears and bounce off the brain that was now aflame. it was not that she did not trust her wife, or even did not trust akavir; it was something else, some mysterious third thing that even she did not understand.
she is quiet for a long note before she squeezes the dainty paw tangled with her own. you left him behind, she whispers, a crack in the once solid voice. and you came to me.
was that enough? enough to know that silvertongue felt for him, felt for crowfeather, and had chosen her in the end? because it was a choice; a choice to act, a choice to relinquish, a choice to sacrifice. a choice they had both made.
i'm sorry, she says softly. i don't even know what's gotten into me, i just-- i get scared.