Hushed Willows you open always petal by petal

There was something about the stranger that was quite striking — something that Valiant could not immediately identify. He knew he wanted to know her, however; a desire that pierced through his grief and throbbed dully in the back of his mind.

"I — yes," he told her, not feeling quite up to explaining his long absence, and the short time he'd spent here among the faeries before. "But — I was born here. Not here-here. In the dens."