Hushed Willows shimon

the day was dreary with rain, a cold sunlight attempting valiantly to warm the icewater droplets. thick willowbranches protected from the worst. boone and reverie had chosen a lovely place for their home, and heda wished them all the goodwill in her spirit.
but when she was not hunting, she was gazing in the direction of the ocean, waiting for simeon's familiar frame to approach. and when she was not waiting, she found herself wordless with grief, eyes dry for she could not allow her strength to fail. not now.
she was a thin silhouette drifting between the greenfall of the pretty leaves.
caracal had been gone just over a month.