Hushed Willows A Silent Retreat

Kirain was forthcoming and detailed with her story. A communicative lamb under the protective shadow of his shepherd’s staff. Wake was thoroughly bemused by her openness, though kept his face smooth and attentive as she spoke, taking in her words without apparent judgement or overreaction.

It was not a happy tale she spun, nor did she attempt in any way to make herself seem particularly favorable. He searched her anguished expression for signs of deception, but there were none to be found. She was either painfully honest or a superb actress. Either way, Winter’s Wake felt no pity for her.

This was sometimes just the way of things. This was the Rhythm of the world. He merely accepted the weight of her words and parsed her story into two categories: useful and burden.

It was useful that she had been an apprenticed healer; it was a burden that she carried much self-doubt from her experiences. Regardless, Kirain was not a lost cause in his eyes. He saw how she looked forward to the days ahead, how she made promises to herself, promises that he now had a vested interest in seeing kept.

That is a hard life, Wake admitted at length, lifting his head to regard her seriously. Especially so young. I commend you for carrying on. It was a hard thing for some to do, so it deserved recognition. He laid his head back down, dark eyes never leaving her. We shall see to it together that the past strengthens you. As opposed to dragging you down.

He blinked against the ground, thoughts whirring for a long moment. After a pregnant pause, he spoke again to ask her a question. Would you like to meet other healers? He knew of at least one she could meet, maybe to learn more of her chosen trade. And if she could not learn there, then he would endeavor to find her elsewhere to collaborate with other healers, if that was his lamb’s desire.