Herbalists' Cache futurama

star eater tries to swallow it down, but it crests anyway, swelling sharp in her throat. her lip trembles before she can stop it, and when she speaks, her voice is thin and trembling, laced with the weight of too many things unsaid.
no, no, she breathes, shaking her head as tears gather, blurring the soft lines of gjalla's face. if you must go... i do not—i do not want to hold you back.
her ears flick, ashamed, even as the first tear spills hot down her cheek. she huffs a soft, wet laugh, paw brushing roughly at her face. these damn hormones, she mutters, trying to joke, but it only makes her cry harder.
there's such a strange, awful ache unraveling inside her. she hadn’t meant to do this. hadn’t meant to make gjalla feel guilty. hadn't meant to make herself this... exposed. and yet here they are, dewclaws and fur at their paws, the half-finished shelter casting its long shadow over them both.
her gaze drops to the snow, blinking fast to clear her vision. i just thought you’d be there. when they come. her voice breaks on the last word, quiet as the wind. a silly idea, maybe.
she inhales slowly, lets the cold air fill her chest until the ache doesn't feel quite so sharp. she meets gjalla's eyes again, searching. but i understand. i do. you have your path, and i have mine. another tear slips free, but she doesn't wipe this one away.