Emberwood Keeping time by a pendulum as the fabric starts to fray

She'd invited @Abel to patrol the perimeter of the Emberwood with her, intent on keeping their camp secure for as long as they were here. It was good to be back in the valley. Reverie found that in the wake of her conversation with Akavir, it wasn't so painful to be here.

Until the pair ran across the makeshift grave she'd created for Moss. It was quite by accident; she hadn't forgotten its place but had chosen to believe it further away than it truly was, not wanting to revisit that particular grief today. It seemed she didn't have a choice in the matter.

Winter had swept away the markers she'd left, but she knew the place nonetheless. Their conversation trailed into silence when she spotted it. Reverie forgot what she'd been saying entirely, expression turning somber.

After a moment she remembered that she had company. Sorry, She mumbled, ears tilting back. I um... someone I used to love is buried here. Reverie indicated the spot with a paw, eyes never leaving it. We... we weren't on good terms when she died.

Their conversation through the wood was a dance to a quiet melody. With Reverie taking charge and Abel following the rhythm. Though whatever response he had lacked what little energy he had mustured in his time being with everyone, with her. The burn in his voice and sunken eyes was the product of sleepless days and now restless nights.

It was cruely fitting to come across the grave: a cherry to top the willow wolves's shared desolation.

I'm sorry to hear, Abel's voice trailed into a somber murmer. A few beats of silence passed before he spoke up.

Who was she? Perhaps it was insencitive to ask, yet he continued almost mindlessly. What was she like?

Somehow she hadn't expected the questions. Reverie paused for a moment, hesitating over the answer. Time had not been kind to her perception of Moss or their relationship. She was older now, old enough to recognize the wrongness of her romances with wolves so much older than herself. But how could she ever explain it to Abel?

Moss had been wrong for pursuing a yearling, for seeking to possess and control a girl who was hardly more than a child, and yet Reverie had loved her anyway.

Her name was Moss, She murmured after a few moments, eyes lifting to meet Abel's. She was... complicated. But she was a protector. She saved my life. I just wish... I wish things had been different between us.

Moss. He looked upon her tomb as though it'd give him more insight into who she was. It gave him nothing to work with of course, and he was left to wonder with what little information he was given.

How so? Abel clumsily treaded a line of what was appropriate to say and what was not. And his mind had yet to catch up with an ever-slipping tongue. What happened?

A moments pause allowed him to chew over the question, and it left a sour taste. I mean, if it's a touchy subject you don't have get into it. He shrunk a bit at the realization of his barrage of insencitive questions. I'm just a bit curious.

It's... She hesitated. It's just complicated, is all. I was uh, I was - really young when we were together. A yearling. She was older. Much older.

My um, my ex-husband had just left me - it was before I married him. Confusing, I know, A brief, sardonic smile tugged at her lips as she said it and fell away as she went on. And she was there. I guess we both just sort of assumed we would spend the rest of our lives that way. Together. We never really talked about it.

I was pregnant and terrified, and - and honestly, half out of my mind. Hearing voices. She didn't care. She wanted to protect me. So I didn't question it, She looked away from the grave then, abruptly feeling as if she might burst into tears if she looked at it a moment longer. And then he came back, and it was over. Just like that. We didn't talk about that, either. But she hated me for it. I saw the way she looked at me.

And then I left. And then she died.

Tears filled her eyes, but she remembered Akavir's words. Save your act. She blinked them away and took in a breath.

And it's messed up, it is, but sometimes I wonder if leaving her was the biggest mistake I ever made.