Deepwood Weald Hello

These were not the joyful, exultant stories that Arjun had so often brought back to her. Easy's expression dimmed, wonder replaced by maternal warmth and sorrow. In that moment, her little Dreamer reminded her more of a much younger Valiant. He'd been similarly distressed from his time on his own.

Having Dutch has a travelling partner had improved that melancholy, she recalled.

"There are," she agreed, her voice grave. She remembered the first time she'd seen something she wished she could unsee. Learned something she wished she could unlearn. Experienced something she wished wouldn't have to be a part of her — but she carried it all with her, even to this day.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asked her Dreamgirl, her eyes tracing those dark, beloved features. "May I hold you a moment, my girl?"

She always asked first, when it was her daughters. After their first time away. Her boys she would draw swiftly to her, and plant kisses on their handsome faces. But her girls she offered this respect. Sometimes touch was not welcome, and she thought women deserved to make that choice for themselves.