Dragoncrest Cliffs Always been told that the good can never last

threadtitle song since it’s kind of a vibe <33

Most of the time Rosalyn slept. Her strength was slowly returning as she was provided food and convinced to eat, but the years seemed less kind than ever now. Everything she did was slow.

Her mind wandered and fractured. At times she spoke; others she drifted. Certain mentions had her check out entirely only to return, completely removed from the subject, jumping to another at what seemed like random choice. Her wife’s name, once her world, now a trigger to her broken core.

She couldn’t lose the memories without losing everything. But she couldn’t bear to know them, or live with the truth they revealed. So she locked them away instead; a gaping and bleeding wound, too big for anything to bind, concealed and ignored instead.

She never visited the graves. Instead her slow amblings would frequently take her to the forests and along the sand, places where it wasn’t necessary to scale the cliff’s slope.

Today she at least appeared to move with some purpose. What that was, however, was not immediately apparent.

there was an ache in her soul that morning.

on light foot she moved. first to patrol, then to cut inland. her pattern weaved through sapphique as her eyes looked for any signs of trouble. of distress.

and there was rosalyn.

the beat of her heart. yet jorunn did not know how she might be welcomed this morning.

a risk she could take.

she crooned out early to her walking lover.

Rosalyn knew that voice. She stopped as she was caught by it but did not turn.

She had come here for a reason. What was it? She tried to regain it, only to realize she wasn’t even entirely sure where ‘here’ was. Where was the ocean? How had she come inland?

Panic began to prick at her, causing her hackles to rise uncertainly. As quickly as she was acknowledged, Jorunn was forgotten as Rosalyn tried to orient herself once more.

rolled a 3 ;.; but I’ll give Jorunn advantage to calm her down and bring her back <3

;O;

beloved,

her heart twisted and tangled, then dropped somewhere in her stomach. there was a want to go and care not if she was met with teeth. there was a wariness that it might do more harm than good.

you are here. in sapphique. home.

her voice a trembled whisper on the last.

Home. The voice was familiar. The word felt wrong. Yet whoever had spoken was trusted.

She didn’t know. Rosalyn tensed, near to cowering, and took a step towards Jorunn. She was something that ached familiarly in this ocean of confusion.

The sea. She needed to find it. Desperation undercut the soft statement, because only when she saw the waves would she know she wasn’t lost.

she hid the soft breaking of her heart.

come, she is waiting. and jorunn took soft leading steps now. inclined to lead them the softest and safest way to the sea.

worried that she might lose her lover in the time it took!

Rosalyn pressed close as she made her way, shakily, alongside. She trusted Jorunn entirely but didn’t relax until the shoreline was in view. She knew this place, just as she knew this wolf.

Rosalyn stopped and leaned against her a moment. Why had she needed to come here? Why couldn’t she remember? This time despair tasted like frustration. She never seemed to find anything anymore.

I’m sorry. For so many things.

how sad a thing to say.

jorunn only leaned softly against her, peered at the ocean before her gaze rebounded. upon a lover, even when some moments it could be a stranger. always a love.

i will forgive you every morning if you must hear it,

a worshipful voice tinged with distant grief.

we can walk to the sea each morning and say our apologies, say our forgiveness — or we can hold one another in silence. whatever we need.

we.

rosalyn was not alone.

The love was unmistakeable and it did not lie. She would cling to the things she loved, so she clung to Jorunn now, pressing against that steadying presence gratefully. There was nothing she could say that would properly express it.

She was lost but she was not alone.

Please. She wanted what was offered. There was pleading in the roughness of the request, and she turned to her, burying her face in the salt-sprayed pelt. Anything. She would give what she could and take what was given.

She knew she had no right to ask. She would anyway.