Chimera Fields kyne’s peace

Vairë’s head hurt.

Their people needed food, and she needed a moment to herself, without the salt in her nose, to think.

She pursued a herd that had wandered too close to the shore, but she knew her heart wasn’t in it from the moment she pursued. The plush grass felt so foreign beneath her feet and yet so familiar, in such a way her heart hurt.

She had known this place, once upon a time. Across the field, the does and their fawns tumbled into the dark of the wood, and she knew she would not go there. The forest held the remnants of her mother, of Winterglade, of her own bittersweet heart. The beige woman slowed from her lope to a walk. Her sides billowed out breath, and her jaw ached. She made an effort to relax it, her headache abating the smallest bit.

Vairë sat, inhaling the flowers on the breeze and listening to the buzz of the bees, and wondered if she had done any of this right.

They did indeed need food, and Reverie held none of Vairë's reservations regarding the herd or its position. She'd trailed her leader in hopes of a social visit at first, but when it became apparent that she was tracking a herd, her intentions shifted. Truthfully Reverie was not quite strong enough for this just yet —
But when had that ever stopped her? Besides; she was not as practiced in large game as she would have liked, and perhaps Vairë had experience here. When she found the woman sitting and smelling the flowers, she chuffed softly to announce herself, and her gaze drifted in the direction of the herd. Then she looked back to Vairë questioningly, silently wondering why she had stopped.

A stirring of ground. The sound of steps. Vairë dreaded looking, but when she did, it was no ghost.

Only Lestan’s wife, Reverie.

The doe gently hummed in greeting, her eyes following the woman’s line of sight to the distant forest.

It is not a good place. She said aloud, her ears falling back to her head.

My blood mother, Löté. She was creating a village there. She became pregnant with my little sibling. And then she vanished after birthing him. Evil walks in those woods, I feel it. It didn’t help the want to be bitter, to be angry, to be irrationally sad. But she would not speak ill of her mother, no matter how she felt personally.

Reverie was very still as Vairë spoke of the woods, though her head tilted to a slight angle at the word evil. She nodded slowly, muzzle dipping to nose through the flowers all around them; a gentle reminder for the young leader. They were not in the woods. They were here, among the flowers.
After a moment she stepped back, eyes seeking Vairë's, and with a few tentative twirling steps she drifted into the beginnings of a dance. But she stopped after only a moment, remaining light on her feet, and glanced again to the other girl in hopeful invitation: dance with me?
There was darkness here, and Reverie knew no better way to bring the light back.