Felltree Marsh vihainen

Oh, Eirlys, you beautiful idiot.

Eirlys burrowed her face in Mallaidh’s ruff for a treasured moment before stepping forward and standing heart-to-heart with her, cocoa muzzle stretching across sterling-feathered withers. “I missed you,” she breathed. “Even though I know where to look for you now, I was afraid I wouldn’t find you again.” She wished, more than anything, that the three reunited siblings could band together and sleep together in a three-thread-knot until they found Roarke once more — but she wouldn’t say so. Circling back to Ceallach, she sought to soothe her brother in the wake of his steely declaration, slicking the bridge of her muzzle under his chin and bumping it skyward. “Chin up!” the gesture seemed to say.

Okay, yeah, no, she was gonna say it after all.

Utterly unaware that she’d already run into her twin once, “I wish we knew where Roarke was,” she blurted out. She’d always been the sentimental one, while Ceallach had been more stoic about their missing siblings. Sensitive to the fact that he might feel threatened about the wistfulness that had crept into her tone the moment she mentioned her twin — but without fully understanding the reason behind it — she snuck an apologetic glance at him and at Mallaidh. “I probably shouldn’t…have…said it,” she mumbled. “It’s not because he’s my twin or anything,” she insisted. “It’s just…we’d be four again.”

She swallowed thickly, a nervous laugh blurting from her. “Sorry — it’s not funny. I know it’s not. I’m not laughing because it’s funny. I just — well, I…you know?”