The Sentinels there's a black crow sitting across from me

dalia shook her head, her gaze only able to break away from his only as emotion swept over her. it was guilt-- maybe-- disappointment. sadness, certainly. "we cannot," she replied gently. she had told velen of this predicament, and he hadn't seemed to fully understand why. it, of course, made sense to dalia, who had grown up with the concept of a branwoda, and treason in it's simplest form.

"drageda is strict. to leave is to excommunicate yourself," she told him softly, ears falling towards her crown, gaze raising up to meet his again. "i can never go back." she would visit surrounding territories one day. maybe she would run into dacio or opalia or sequoia or dio. she knew that portia would never leave the territory, but maybe even her mother would be there. 

she wondered what they'd say to her. if they'd ask her back, or chase her off. perhaps in her wildest fantasy, they would catch up and speak highly of their own lives, and then part ways until they saw each other again. was that naive? dalia felt naive thinking that, but she couldn't help it.

her lips curved slightly upwards, ears raising a bit. "i am happy here," she assured him. she was.