The Tangle when you grow older and all those boys grow tired of you

it's hard. it's so hard -- she'd spent so long trying to puzzle through every misstep she'd made with furi before, her obliviousness, her single-mindedness, every moment she failed to connect the dots right in front of her. their time apart forced her to grow and to really work to earn mallaidh's affection, but she's scared still. scared she'll do something wrong or miss her cue, scared she still won't be enough. and could anyone ever be enough? blixen is slow but she's starting to understand how mallaidh is -- so full of love and want that no one person could be everything for her. is that something she can deal with? she isn't sure, but she's tired of feeling defensive, and she knows mallaidh doesn't like that, either. maybe one day she'll be enough, or maybe she'll have to learn to share.

right now she doesn't want to worry about either. the vulnerability she feels, the fact that right now mallaidh seems so.. receptive to her--blixen can't hold back from acting on it. don't think about wildfire or her kid siblings or artaax or nomi, don't think about the sound or the captive or even leading the new branch. instead there is: mallaidh. "furi," breathed into the space between them, fragile as glass. 

blixen leans in closer, moving slow -- too afraid to push too hard, too fast -- and returns mallaidh's cheek kiss, grazing gently against the plush fur of her jaw, dropping her head to nose at her neck if she can.