Fox's Glade someone only you could want

Una vida nueva.
Silvertongue had already tried so hard to start over; the foundations she had built with a man who understood, and yet one who had betrayed her in possibly the deepest way. Her soul, still, with Riverclan — Belen was no longer. And Wren would never ask her to leave it behind so soon after she had built it; no, not at all.
But perhaps it could benefit from some... restructuring. Or maybe that was the red-hot fury thinking for her.
There are more tears from her lover, and this time, Wren reaches forth to dab them from her cheeks with gentle kisses. They are sincere, tentative, as if she is afraid she may be met with gnashing teeth for coming so close. She cries not for Wren, but for Crowfeather — someone Wren could never compete with, and she knows this, and she cannot decide if that is a good or bad thing.
Her own eyes have become glassy again, too, but that was not of importance in this moment.
Una nuova, nuova vita, insieme, so similar were their mother tongues, the slightest of differences that made them intertwine in a blue-green haze. Riverclan is yours, Silver. Don't let any man take that from you.
I would love you the way he could never.
But she decides against saying that.