Herbalists' Cache a mad thought

she watched him in silence, taking in the weight of his emotions as they swelled and pressed against the silence between them. for all his strength, for all the power he wielded, he was uncertain here—humbled, perhaps, by the small lives nestled between them, by the quiet miracle of their existence.
star eater knew fear, knew sorrow, knew the bitter taste of regret—but love was a stranger to her, one she had never been able to name, one she had never dared to claim. and yet, here it was, curling into her chest, filling the empty spaces she had long ignored.
his voice was rough with something unspoken, and her heart ached for him—for the man who did not know what to do with his own tenderness.
she pressed against him, let her fur brush against his, and when he began, she followed, voice weaving into his, steady and sure. she sang not just for the children but for him—for the war-torn man who did not know that he, too, deserved to be held.