Two Eyes Cenote Aimless direction bound through

Alone in her quarters she hears the crunch of pawsteps and glances towards the door, formality dwindling to surprise when the raven’s face appears in her threshold.

“Legend,” she is on her paws before the woman has time to set in more than a couple steps, sweeping her chin gladly along the yaret’s narrow spine and wrapping a paw around her runner's arm. Her eyes squeeze shut and she breathes deeply, lips pressed together with the determination not to cry.

“I’ve missed you,” she whispers, pulling back to study the glaze of Legend’s huge gray eyes, only then to truly take notice of what she clutched preciously between her teeth and how the room had suffused with a floral scent; one that drops strangely in the hebsut's lungs like cold, heavy stones.

A shift abaft, she makes ample space for Legend to enter, eyes wide in unvoiced question.