Hushed Willows i DIG rock and roll music

its ya gurr comin
happy 300th babyg 

The last time Aure had been beneath the earth was when the Dread Wolf had let her cheeks bloom roses with his claws. That was it, though — there was a difference between the cavern of her drowned innocence and that of Hougeda. In the underworld of Rhaesuial, the only thing the water had given her was fury and a fear of all but herself. Under the spires of Hougeda, it was winter light, not water, that’d given her some inner sanctuary to all the turmoil that had happened, and was still yet to come.

She felt it here, too, that timid tranquility; and she wondered whether it would affect @Opalia, the daughter of Dio that she’d brought along with her. Aure soon sighted Lily, all spent and wearied and rested at the site of a... burrow? Either way, the herbalist started on over, feathering her tail in a flourish of greeting with a chirrup of ”Doamna!”

As Aure wove a path to where Lily was, her thoughts flickered to why she’d returned to Elysium in the first place: it wasn’t just restlessness, brought on by the idleness of pregnancy — that much was certain. It was fidgeting on her own time, when she wasn’t founding a new apothecary or letting herself drift in the time spent with others.

It was from the bit of guilt she still carried from her quarrel with her cheka, from having pressed him past already-strained limits and thus drawing some unspoken curtain between them. There were no words to express how much she detested it, what she’d done, in some inkling, that no amount of consoling would diminish — her fault. My fault.

But... she hadn’t come here to go at length of her romance, long for him or not. No, the apothecary — these willows, and Lily was her priority now; so she let a smile pearl along her lips for the blackbird as she threaded nearer.