Wapun Meadow broke my own limb and blamed you for the limp

as if it were a deluge at the beginning of spring, wren's fear and sorrow and anger broke over the brow of her listening wife and pooled around them. all that had been said once. all that had not been said. silvertongue watched wren reel through the fright and rage of painful memories, and knew she could not argue with her mate's view of what had gone on. by evidence, by experience, wren had suffered rejection from each pack in the valley. this would not be easily assuaged. by the end her own chin was trembling, her smaller paws clutching the willowy ankle of her wife. two tears rose, sped down her face, were gone. "i do not want to leave you. i do not want to leave riverclan." a breath, her grasp tightening once in reassurance. "you have been mistreated, by many. but you are here. with me. gunnar is dead. akavir will not approach us unless i tell him it is all right. you are here, conmigo," she said with a fierce exhale, her eyes resuming a hard look that wren would not have seen since the desert. "i do not see a fuck up. i see a woman who is hurting, who has been hurt. you have done nothing to earn my departure, and all to earn my trust." there was a soft quiet now, a softening, and silvertongue reached to touch wren's face, feeling the moisture of tears upon her paw; "we belong to each other. not riverclan. not kvarsheim. not swiftcurrent creek. and i am leader. i can protect you as you have not had before. but there is no gunnar to face. no trial. no akavir. only us, and the children that will come. let me stand between all that is outside, for us. it is time for you to rest."