Stone Circle Fallen like hundred year old trees missed your body

No rush, I know we have one already, I just had muse for this <3 making some assumptions but lmk if it should be changed!!

The sun was beginning to set by the time Reverie had gotten Blossom settled and peeled herself reluctantly away from Tauris's side. She sought @Boone, finding him away from the others, and her heart ached a little. How could she ask him to stay here?
Boone, She murmured her greeting, brushing her nose along his cheek. That familiar heat surged in her, to be so close, yet it was quieted for now by her sorrow. Reverie could hardly bear the thought of being parted from her family again, but neither could she fathom watching Boone walk away without her. It felt impossible to give voice to these feelings, and so she did not. She only settled beside him, quiet for now.

nyoom

Kvarsheim.
How vastly different it was from the Isle, from Mount Chesney; so many folks walking along these fields, a peanut gallery in the opposite way that the Isle was. Peaceful, he thought, and he didn't mind it — good food, good people.
But it was no home. Not for him.
He'd wandered for a bit while Reverie caught up with her friends, found somewhere for Blossom to hunker down. Not far, never too far from her; he familiarizes himself with the scents, the faces. And by the time Reverie crept up to his side, he'd been seated in front of the Seer Stones. He examines them with solemn eyes, and he wonders who the bones that lay beneath them belonged to. He'd fulfill his promise of flowers before they leave.
He feels her come up to him, the brush of her nose; the swell of her voice, and his teeth clench together, the muscles of his jaw curved in something like sadness. He doesn't look at her. And softly, quietly, as if it may kill him to know, he asks; Who's Lestan? 

Lestan.
It hurt more than she had realized it would, hearing his name in Boone's voice. Reverie sucked in a breath and pulled away as if he'd struck her. For a moment, it was all she could do to hold in her tears; even so, she sniffled a little and wiped her face furiously with her wrist to rid herself of that little trickle of wetness down her cheeks.
I - She faltered. If - if I tell you - then you have to promise you won't ever say that name to me, not ever again. Please. Reverie didn't think she could stand it, always revisiting that horrible dark chapter of her life, always reminded of how much she'd loved Lestan and how much he'd done for her, and how it had never been enough because he had left, because nothing would ever be enough if that day could not be taken back.
She just wanted to forget that it had ever happened.

What was so horrible about this Lestan?
The fear that had begun to take Reverie in; the dark glaze to eyes of pale daffodil; Boone's chest hurt, watching her like this. Okay, he resolves, voice chalked down to a mere husky whisper. I promise.
And although at first he'd been hesitant, he leans forward with a paw outreached for one of her own, and his eyes shimmer and gleam with something serious. You can tell me.
Do I need to kill somebody?

He promised, and Reverie felt some of the tension fall away from her. She let out a slow breath, pressing her paw to his when he reached for her, and closed her eyes for a moment. When she opened them again, they were a little colder; Lestan is - he was - And her throat hurt, My husband. He's gone now. I don't know where he is, or if he's looking for me, or - or if I'll ever see him again.
We met here. In the Valley. He was part of Swiftcurrent Creek, and I was with Kvarsheim, She looked away from Boone, unable to meet his eyes through the retelling of it. We - we rushed into things, and then - then I found out I was pregnant. With Blossom. Reverie paused here, fighting tears again, fighting the horrible tightness of her throat. It was... it was hard. The pregnancy. I was sick, and I - I wasn't well mentally, either. I wasn't sleeping or eating properly. He was miserable. And one day - one day I started bleeding, and he - he left me.
Alone with a future she'd never wanted to face by herself; even the memory of it burned her still. He was gone for weeks, and I - I snapped. I tried to - to end the pregnancy, or maybe myself, I don't know, She realized belatedly that she had lost her fight against her tears, that she was crying now and couldn't seem to stop. It didn't work. I had Blossom, and - eventually, he came back. But it wasn't the same. I - I just kept getting sicker, and we had to leave Swiftcurrent Creek because - because I made everyone hate me there, and because of the witch.
So we went to the sea. Saltshore. But nothing got better, Finally she found it in herself to look at Boone now. I was still sick, and Lestan - he - he gave up everything for me, and it only made him miserable. He wanted to leave again, and we argued, and - that was almost the end of our marriage. Sometimes I think it was the end, and neither of us wanted to admit it. But then... then all of those strange things happened to us, the lights and the odd creatures, and we tried to make it work in that place, but I... I wasn't happy.
Then Blossom and I woke up without him, on the beach, Reverie finished miserably. And then - I met you.

And he listens. As intently as he can muster, he listens; Swiftcurrent Creek, Kvarsheim; a husband, lost; Saltshore, an accidental pregnancy that resulted in the petalbloom girl who walked with them. And it was a lot to take in, this mountain of information that now warped and stretched already in the chasm of his mind.
She had a husband. And he supposed it made sense, but they had—
For a long while, a long long while, he is quiet. Contemplatively staring with a knit brow and lips that part to speak before closing all over again, though never once does his grip on her paw shift. And after a lifetime of deafening, squirreling silence, he finally says; I'm sorry.
And he was. Because now, it made sense; now, he understood why she shifted with the tide and drifted in the breeze, why she had bothered to stay by his side, why she wept so often without a seemingly apparent reason.
Wordlessly, again, he leans forward to press the point of his chin to the crown of her head, and a noise is pulled right from his lungs. A laugh; a sardonic one, so quiet it must only have been felt. You didn't deserve that, he murmurs. any of it. You know that, right?

Boone's silence stretched; Reverie found herself painfully aware of her heart in her throat, in her ears. She felt unmoored, adrift on some wild grey sea, centered now on that single point of contact. That little scrap of warmth was the only thing that held her to reality.
Then he spoke. She hardly understood at first; he was sorry? But then he was touching her, speaking again, and for a moment Reverie could only marvel at how he always left her breathless, breathless and wanting more. She pressed closer, tucking her head under his chin with a soft sound of contentment in her throat. And she thought that maybe Boone was right.
Maybe she didn't deserve that. Maybe she deserved more than being someone else's problem; maybe she deserved more than sorrow and abandonment. Here and now, carefully grooming dust and sand from Boone's fur, she felt none of that. She felt... as if he understood. And it was odd, really; she hadn't expected it, not from him, not from a man like that. But Reverie was realizing that Boone was not the kind of man she'd assumed. He wasn't the kind of man she could simply move on from and forget.
No; she saw now that he was far brighter than that — not the gilded sun but the stars and the moonlight reflecting off the waves, not the light that blinds but the light that leads you home. Once, Reverie had wanted nothing more than to be free, untethered, bound to nothing and no one but whim and whimsy. She'd wanted the world, she'd wanted to blaze the brightest trail and press her lips to the sun itself. But things were different now. She was different.
She wanted to follow the light that led her home.

And it was true. It wasn't her fault, and he says it repeatedly; once, as he tucks her into his chest and murmurs it solemnly; again, when her chin is pulled upward so that she can see him say it; and a third, when a kiss is pressed to the space between her fluttering eyes.
A husband, who abandons the woman sowed with his own seed. A pack who watches, gawking, while she struggles. And that very same husband, returning only to tear the last shreds of their — love — apart. He wasn't no husband, he says, and it comes with a sense of certainty, finality; he wasn't. Not for her, at least.
And he sits with that before his lips purse and he adds; You've been through a lot, Reverie. It's okay to let yourself feel it. Feel the, uh, the grief. And it's also okay to start over.
Start over. He thinks of little Matteo, of Iseul; where they could possibly be now. How far he was from them. Starting over.
This is, um, maybe I'm outta my mind, but, and even as he says it, he does not let her go; not for a second is their touch not maintained, gentle as ever. what if we made our own home? You don't gotta keep runnin', and Blossom could have somewhere to, to return to. he breathes a sigh from his nostrils, head shaking. A do-over. Of everything. Somewhere where you don't gotta hold onto that pain no more.

Her veins lit with silver fire; when he tucked her close she shivered, when he lifted her chin she felt breathless, when he kissed her she giggled softly in delight. All her tears dried, chased away by his gentle reassurances. She thought no more of Lestan; she had chosen him at every crossroads, yet when his own turn to choose came he'd turned away from her not once but twice. Her thoughts turned instead to Boone, who had chosen her before he even knew who she was. Boone, who was choosing her again in soft words she could hardly comprehend. He wanted to give her a home.
He wanted to be her home.
Her eyes filled with tears all over again, but the grief had faded from her. She kissed him first, slow and sweet and wanting. Reverie was breathless when she broke away. I - yes, Her heart raced; her eyes were bright. I would... I would like that. To start over - with you. This warmth, this soft glow between them; it felt like hope. It felt, in this moment, as if there could be forgiveness for all that she had done.

sorry this one is kinda shrimpy SOB

She sought a home with him. It felt so permanent, now, her presence in his life; it felt foreign and frightening and enthralling, to have someone desire such a thing with him. Him, him!
And she kisses him with all the fire stewing at the core of the earth, and he, too, finds the air stolen from his lungs. Okay, well, uh, good to know I'm not the only one here who might need to be thrown in the loony bin, he chuffs out a happy chortle, something dumb and boyish and gleeful and shy.
He should marry her.
What kinda home you see yourself livin' in, then, princess?

Thrown in the loony bin. Reverie wondered for a moment if he knew just how close he was to the truth — but she didn't linger on it. If we're crazy, then we're crazy together, She murmured, nose tracing a path along his jaw. Her cheeks and her ears flushed with heat when he called her princess, and for a moment Reverie struggled to recall what he'd asked.
Oh. Right. A home. Anywhere, as long as I have you and Blossom, Reverie said first, but then she thought about it more and added, Somewhere beautiful. Close to the valley. I don't want to stay here, but... I want to be able to visit. The mountains aren't that far... Her gaze drifted in that direction for a moment, remembering Boone's affinity for the place. But I always get lost in the mountains. She was a creature of the plains, the tall gilded sea of grass where she'd been born. But she would follow Boone into the mountains, if that was what he wanted.
She didn't think she could stand to be alone again.

wrapping this one here!

How 'bout, a mischievous smirk curls the corner of his lip. not the mountains, but not not the mountains? Our own little valley somewhere. A holler. That way both of us can be happy.
He can see it now in his head; the verdant green treeline sweeping up over their heads, a creek running right through the heart of it; sunrays gleaming in early morning and fog covering the mountaintops when it rains. And they'd do it together.
He didn't have to be alone anymore.
We'll find someplace special. We'll-- we'll recuperate here, get some rest, think about it, and then go out gettin' lost, yeah? she lingers close and he mirrors it, one hefty paw reaching for the gentleness of her own. You're stuck with me now, Rev'. Ain't no shitty ex-husband here.

A compromise, then. Reverie smiled faintly, only half-listening; caught in the way her heart leapt to see the hint of a smirk at his lips, that distant look in his dark eyes that told her he was somewhere far away. Imagining their future together, perhaps. She pressed her lips to his cheek in a sudden surge of warmth.
I wouldn't want it any other way, Reverie murmured against his fur, and kissed him again. Then her mouth found his, and she wrapped her arms around him and drew him close. For a time they would lose themselves in one another, just the two of them, and none of the rest of the world seemed to exist in those moments. She thought she could have stayed there forever. But the future was calling them — and for once, Reverie was not reluctant to answer.