Herbalists' Cache tide bound

star eater listened, quiet, her expression unreadable save for the depth of warmth that softened the sharpness of her gaze.
the words settled in her chest like fresh snowfall, silent and heavy, but warm. a gift she had not expected, one she had not dared to claim. her throat tightened, but she swallowed it down, unwilling to show the rawness of such emotion.
instead, she moved with purpose, pressing a kiss to the crown of other shore’s head. a paw, steady and sure, cupped the girl's cheek, holding her there for a moment before she let go.
she would not let the girl walk alone.
when other shore spoke of the trees, of the journey that had brought her here, star eater listened with the patience of a woman who had learned to let the world speak before she did. she could see the excitement shimmering in the younger wolf’s eyes, the wonder that had not yet been beaten out of her by hardship.
the trees have always been there, she said, a small smile forming at the corner of her lips, but you had to walk far to see them.
her silver gaze flicked toward the snow-covered expanse beyond, where the pines stood tall against the sky.
the sea is real, too.
it was spoken with quiet certainty, the way one speaks of something inevitable. she had not seen it herself, but she had dreamed of it.
perhaps, one day, we will see it together.