Herbalists' Cache tide bound

home is... she begins, but the words fall, caught between thought and breath. what was home to her? evenspire was the name of where she was born, but it had not kept her. saatsine had taken her in, but it had torn her apart. the snow shelter where her children lay—was that home?
her gaze softens as she looks at other shore, the girl who had come to her as something frail, who now stood taller, steadier.
home is surrounded by those who love you, she murmurs, reaching to smooth a wayward strand of fur along other shore's cheek. no matter where it is.
she does not answer the second question, the one about beauty, because she is not sure she knows the answer. she had never thought of home as beautiful, only as something fleeting, something to be lost. but here, with other shore—perhaps it did not have to be.
my kingdom was beautiful, she reminisced. the summer brought lemons and peaches. she thought of @Gjalla, then, with the lemon tarts. a delicious snack.