Swiftcurrent Creek But what we learn in the dark can see us through

There was so much more to say to @Akavir — things not meant for the ears of any other, even those companions who had followed her so faithfully from Casco Bay. When Reverie found a moment alone with him, the mask of her strength fell away, and she let out a long wavering sigh in lieu of words.

There's already fighting - in Casco Bay, She confessed quietly, glancing toward where she'd left Hunst to await her return. Far from here. But it won't be long before my father sends someone after me - if he hasn't already. Three packs have declared war against Sunfil already, and - and somehow they're not winning. The Sea-Snakes sent Hunst with me. Witch Island sent a guardian, Haze - another cousin. The Cyanean Empire sent Gemini, a strategist and tracker. And the gem-dancers sent Gossamer as a scout - but they haven't joined the fighting yet.

It won't matter soon enough. My parents won't stay in Casco Bay. And when they get here, everyone will be in danger. They're not coming for you or anyone else - but they have ideas about - heathens. They have ideas about their children, too.

But it's my children they want - and you can't tell anyone this, Akavir, no one but Arric. Please. I sent my daughters to Kvarsheim - and they're safe there, but only for now. My father is looking for them. That's why he'll come here. That's why I'm here.

Reverie wanted a word alone with him—and so he had given a nod to both Arric and Morwenna, lifting the assembled packs of good the creek wolves had taken with them, and led her through the creek. Her guard left behind—no doubt, Arric would attend the man with either company or a place to settle for the night.

His eyes felt the heaviness of fatigue—often times, he wondered if he should settle a more permanent den.

With grim amusement, he wove the path to Muskrat’s abandoned den site—the line of bones still gathered along one side, while the other seemed to have been tampered with. By nature, likely—or perhaps one of the more curious pups of the creek.

There, near the entrance of the cave, the man dropped the belongings—not allowing the exhale of relief to be noticeable before he rolled a shoulder, craning his neck slightly and feeling a light crack as tension released.

For tonight, the items could be placed here—tomorrow, they could be dealt with.

He turned to Reverie, pale eyes catching upon the glow of her form against the warning of dusk. He had listened to her words as they slowly walked—a churning of questions burning within him. Three packs had apparently claimed a war upon the pack led by Reverie’s parents—all for the sake of her children, who apparently resided in Kvarsheim.

“That’s a lot to take in,” he admitted—an apologetic grimace upon his features as he sat down. “I guess the biggest question I have… is what do they plan to do with your children, Reverie?” In truth, he knew nothing about her culture—and perhaps that’s why this felt like only half a puzzle was presented to him. “And… you know Kvarsheim is lead only by two yearlings who haven’t even a chance for the world to test them yet, right?” Were her girls truly safe there? Why wouldn’t she take her family and vanish?

Reverie nodded solemnly, her gaze only tracing briefly over the items Akavir had set down. It was a lot to take in — even now that she'd had weeks to process all of it. Her own expression twisted into a grimace as she listened to his questions.

I don't know, She confessed. I don't know if he wants them dead or - or if he wants to do to them what he did to me. I only found out he wanted them a few weeks ago - one of the Cyaneans' spies...

Reverie shook her head slightly. It doesn't matter. I'll die before I let him have my daughters. Her golden gaze was steady as she spoke; amidst all the uncertainty, this at least was something she knew.

I sent them to Kvarsheim before I knew the extent of the threat. All I knew then was that - that someone had taken Dusty Rose. I've thought about taking them elsewhere, but...

It feels like I've traveled half the world already. How much farther can we run, Akavir? Reverie shook her head again, this time frustrated. No. Kvarsheim is family - Sven is my brother. He's young, but I trust him.

And I don't want to let the fighting reach Kvarsheim, if I can help it. I have a plan.

Perhaps—there was a moment of insight into Reverie he had never bore witness to before. Whatever her parents had done, it had been enough for her to not just fear them, but to warn so many others of their travels. A silence descended upon him—whether he should ask her for more details, in which to better prepare for any possible outcome…

… Or to let her hold on to those memories and not have her speak of whatever trauma bore from them.

He chose the latter—and as she spoke, Akavir, too, took notice of how tired she seemed to be. He withheld a soft sigh—settling back slightly and considered Kvarsheim. “You look tired, Rev,” he noted. “You and your guards can spend a night or so here… But you should know, Lestan is home, once more. I don’t…” He paused, trying to consider his words. “I don’t know what happened between you guys, really. But I do know he’s different… I don’t know if you being here will be much of a comfort to him.”

He grimaced slightly at the words—a paw lifting to touch her cheek for only a moment, as if he could undo any pain he might have caused her with those words. But she deserved to know the truth—and Lestan deserved to be at rest in his home. “I’m sorry.”

Would she have told him, if he'd asked? The story of The Gilded Sea, the blood and fire she'd been born to; perhaps not. Akavir had never needed a reason to distrust her, and stupidly she still wished for his trust. His respect. His —

Lestan. The name struck her and cut more deeply than she might have imagined, sliced right through any pretty little dreams she'd had of staying. Of course she couldn't stay. This wasn't her home.

And she'd never been his home.

The hot sting of her own tears nearly blinded her to the soft touch at her cheek — but not quite. But if he'd meant to keep her from crying, he would find himself sorely mistaken. That brief warmth was what broke her. Reverie couldn't find any words to give him, as hard as she tried. She wept openly now; she wept for all the things that she could never say.

It wasn't Lestan she thought of, then.

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The news broke a dam—it was only fair. The myriad of emotions and worry she must carry right now, for her mate, for her daughters, for herself—not to mention exhaustion—of course the news of her ex-mate would bring a wave of tears.

“Ah, fuck, Reverie,” he rumbled, closing the distance between them and wrapping her in a hug, as if her tears were blood and he was a band aid that could at least stop the flow for a moment in time. “Don’t cry,” he murmured, muzzle burying into the ruff of her neck fur. He had meant it when he said her timing was terrible.

“Before you know it, you’ll be back in Dusty’s arms and your girls will be back in yours. Have some faith, okay?”

She tried to quiet herself, remembering how Akavir hated her tears, and fell into his embrace as if it was the only safe place to be. In this moment, it felt that way. I hope so, Reverie murmured into his fur, tears still falling. I really hope so. But I - you should know this, Akavir -

I have to try to - to kill him myself. My father. No one else can get - get close enough. No one I trust, Reverie didn't stop to wonder at herself, at how she spoke these words without crumbling. She felt like she was crumbling. Her grip on Akavir tightened. Sometimes - sometimes I dream about it. But in my dreams I always die.