Hushed Willows It was no accident

This is the right place, I'm sure of it. Don't give me that look! The voice carried through the pines and snow, permeating that invisible line that delineated the claimed land from the wilderness.

You're the one that wanted to see, so let's see. It was a one-way conversation by the sounds of things; if someone answered it wasn't with a loud enough voice for others to hear, if there even was someone else.

The shadow paced among the trees and then stopped, sitting, glaring over his shoulder a moment - Fine, go that way; but I know I'm right! Followed by some grumbling to himself while the snow fell.

Is it ok if we set this after the big hunt? If not I can delete <3

Somewhere along the borders, Reverie heard a voice. Her head cocked to one side as she listened, ears twitching as she tried to make sense of it. Just one voice, yet it sounded like half of a conversation. How odd!

She set off at a trot to see who it could be, finding an unfamiliar wolf sitting in the snow. His eyes were a pretty silver-blue, and he seemed disgruntled. Hello! Reverie called out, ears pulled forward and posture neutral for now. Welcome to Hearthwood. Did you need any um, help or anything?

Totally!

When the pretty lady appeared, the shadow looked at her and seemed unfocused, as if he looked through her; but she spoke and his demeanor shifted slightly. He stood up again and shook snow from his shoulders.

What're you doing here? You're supposed to be back home in the forest. Nothin' for you here. There was a strange shine to his eyes, as if he looked at something glimmering and alive, but all that reflected from them was a vague image of Reverie. Can't be helped though. I was right - if you're here, I'm here too. No smoke without fire.

He began to stride towards her - around her, a little too close for comfort.

Reverie blinked at him, a little caught off guard and a little concerned and a little wary all at once. Something was wrong, that much was clear. And she knew what that was like, didn't she? That hazy disconnect from reality, images and sounds manufactured by an overactive mind. Her heart ached with sympathy.

Hey, um, She reached out with a delicate touch to his shoulder, hoping to stop him. It's - it's okay. Why don't you come with me? I can get you something to eat, and maybe we can... talk a little. Does that sound alright? No smoke without fire. Reverie blinked again, struggling with her own surge of panic and paranoia. You will burn with me. No; no fire here. It was far too cold for fire. She had to remember that.

She touched his shoulder and he did not react; not a flinch, not a snap, not a moment of slowing in his stride. Any awareness of his own bodily autonomy appeared to be missing.

The fire-woman spoke and the smoke-man laughed. It was a pinched sound, a wheeze bordering on a gasp, like he was trying to remember how to do what people do.

Told you this was the right way. See? Suddenly he swung his gaze to look at her, eyes glazed. He blinked a few times, slowly, and seemed to find some clarity in the motion; his head giving a little etch-a-sketch shake as he reconnected to reality. Oh.

He had stopped walking and was looking around, seeing the drooping trees and the drifting snow. When he spoke this time his voice was deep and present, and exasperated. I did it again.

She trailed him helplessly at first, uncertain how she might pull him from his haze. It was a relief, then, when he seemed to snap out of it on his own. Reverie stepped forward to touch his shoulder lightly again, offering a gentle smile.

That's alright. I - I know what it's like. It happens to me sometimes, too, She explained softly. Her eyes flicked over him in search of injury or illness, but she found none. Are you okay? Concern was apparent in her expression, but there was no judgment.

boone was never far away; but of course, reverie had to be the one to find this fella first.
he came forward in a soft stride, eyebrows knit with a flush of concern. he knew that far-away look, that catatonic tone he heard in the voice. a tortured mind. reverie, too, sounded like that at times. his heart burns.
he gently urges his wife to step away with the brush of his nose to her shoulder. hey, his voice is quiet, smooth; he fears coming across as patronizing. name's boone. whatever it is that's goin' on, you're safe here, yeah? let's-- a look, exchanged with the coach. let's get you somewhere warm. you hungry?

In a more lucid state he could more than hear the concern in her voice, but witnessed it as her body made subtle soundless cues, and he picked up on those too quick for his own mind. When another appeared, a man, the shadow read in him the same worry but one that included the woman; and why not? The shadow was an anomaly; a strange young man pushing boundaries and making little sense. He could've been a threat.

I'm sorry, he said to them. Im sometimes in... many places at once. I know how that sounds -- I sleep walk, I think. He could not put to words what derealization felt like. My name is Hypnos. He looked to the woman first but couldn't for long, and seemed to shrink in to himself as much as his stilted figure could allow.

The irony of his name and condition in tandem was lost to him. With eyes watching the dirt, and the affect of a teenage dirtbag being caught red-handed with a bottle of spray paint, Hypnos looked at the dirt.

Editing a fade in

Boone appeared, and for an instant Reverie was immensely grateful to see him — but that feeling quickly faded into hurt as he urged her away. She took a step back but did not depart, unwilling to let go of the situation; was this not her role here? Why was he trying to strip this from her, too? She was a leader as much as he was — or maybe not. Maybe he only wanted her as an ornament to hang at his flank.

She swallowed her hurt, large as it was, and felt as if she might be sick. But it was easier to focus on this, on Hypnos. That was a pretty name. At the shared glance with Boone she gave a single faint nod, comforted by what she interpreted as camaraderie rather than an attempt to take the reins from her.

It's nice to meet you, Hypnos. I'm Reverie, She felt she recognized his grasp at normalcy; it would be cruel to rip it away from him, to insist that they speak of what surely plagued his entire life as it did hers. Reverie tried to meet his eyes even as they were trained on the ground. None of their questions so far seemed to have gotten through; he was overwhelmed, she thought, and in need of a safe and quiet space to collect himself. Why don't you come with us? This way. She beckoned for him to follow her, glancing briefly at Boone again. They would get him somewhere safe first, she assumed, and from there she could bring herbs to him, and Boone could bring food. They could help him together. The plan soothed her somewhat.

Together, they were able to settle Hypnos — and just like that, he became a part of Hearthwood. A part of their growing family. She hoped that he would find healing here.