Hushed Willows tomorrow never comes until it's too late
Swiftcurrent Creek
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All Welcome 
With a howl to @Arric to let him know he would be gone for only a few days, the man set out.

He had told Mae he would visit her—the olive branch had been extended, and like hell he was going to ignore that. He was pleasantly surprised to know she had not settled too far away—and then less than happy when he realized it also meant Reverie was nearer than he had considered.

Still—the woman was kind enough to grant @Mae a haven when she needed it the most, and for that he was grateful. Thus, the bundle of herbs remained wrapped in the beaver skin—thieved from @Eshe’s garden with a certain disdain, but acceptance of its usefulness.

The sun shone brightly in a promising sky—the faint scent of the ocean drifted to him, and he found himself at the borders of a pack he believed Mae remained in—willows weren’t necessarily a common sight.
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The last thing she'd expected, truly, was to hear Akavir calling at her borders. Mae had been scarce since Boone's disappearance, though she'd hardly been around even before. Always traveling, that girl; always searching for something she never named. Not to Reverie, at least.

But the girl's scent was fresh at the borders still. Reverie took note of this as she made the long trek from her den to where the leader of Swiftcurrent Creek waited, leaving her children once again in @Everett's care. It seemed that Mae hadn't left entirely — but that didn't mean she would stay.

Akavir, She greeted tiredly, eyes still red from spending her morning in tears at the makeshift grave of her husband. Her gaze drifted only briefly over the bundle he carried. Mae is somewhere around here. But I - you should know that - that things have been difficult here. We lost someone a few days ago. Mae cared for him, I think. I - I haven't seen her since then.

I don't know how she's taking it, Reverie glanced into the marsh beyond where they stood, then back to Akavir. But it - it's good that you're here.
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While he knew Reverie reigned in this pack, he had assumed, almost, that she would steer clear of him—particularly after their last interlude. So when she swept forward, the man steeled himself—that careful mask of his sliding to place, indirectly and without thought.

As she came closer, he noticed how harrowed she seemed. Eyes red—exuding exhaustion in a way he felt particularly sympathetic with. But he spoke nothing for now. Both had made it sure the other understood they wanted nothing to do with one another—but Mae’s invitation had lead to the inevitable.

She spoke, the reason for her sorrow clear and he found himself deflating within at this—Mae had lost yet someone else. Inwardly, he cursed.

Outwardly, he placed the herbs at his fore paws—gaze sweeping over the slim woman. “I’m sorry for your loss,” he offered, sincerely, and yet with the knowledge that the words would fix nothing that was wrong in this moment—particularly, bringing their loved one back or giving them any semblance of peace. Words for such a heartache were empty.

Any other time, he would have offered to come back at another time. To give the grieving pack space—but he couldn’t. Not if it came with a chance of Mae feeling as if he did not care. Instead, he nudged the skin of herbs toward her, inclining his muzzle slightly. “This is from our pack’s garden.” The garden his ex-wife had begun—had also had him work on for endless hours.

“I can stay nearby if Mae needs some time before she sees me…”  He didn't dare ask who had passed and who the man was to his daughter—likely a far better man than him.
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Soooome powerplay and I'm genuinely not sure if it works so def shoot me a message if I should edit LOL
She hadn't expected Akavir to be so gentle with her — but surely it was less for her and more for his daughter. Reverie nodded as he offered his condolences, eyes abruptly brimming with tears. For a moment she didn't dare speak.

Thank you, She said finally as she accepted the skin of herbs, voice wavering but not breaking. You can come in, if you want. She'll find us when she's ready. If there was anything Reverie had learned about Mae, it was this: she never did anything unless it was on her own terms. She picked up the herbs and beckoned for Akavir to follow.

She led him to the little cave where she stored her herbs, and when she'd placed the skin among the rest, she turned back to him. I've been worried about her for a long time, Reverie admitted, eyes filled with concern. Even before this. I've been hoping you might come, because I - I've tried to help her, and I can't.
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'She’ll find us when she’s ready.'

It sounded as if Reverie was torn between being polite and keeping a close eye on him—after all, she had told him he had betrayed her trust before, and so he clenched his teeth gently around his tongue, swallowing any words he might have said that would jeopardize the opportunity to see his daughter.

He remained a respectful distance behind her—the scenery of their home was rather picturesque and he found himself wondering what it was about Reverie or this place that Mae had felt the desire to settle.

When Reverie broke the silence between them, Akavir found his champagne gaze sweeping over her pale form once more, the faintest hint of a frown pulling at his features as she confided in him a moment—and he felt slightly baffled at this admission. “Arric passed your message along to me,” he offered, though he tried to keep his tone casual. “About staying clear. But Mae invited me and I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to…” To reconnect. To connect at all.

To show her he really did care, when somehow, she always felt he hadn’t.

Once more, he bit his tongue. Reverie was not a confidant. “I don’t know if my presence will be much help. It never seems to be, with her.”
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Akavir was quick to remind her of the message she'd given Arric. Reverie nodded; she couldn't deny that she'd wanted him to stay away from her. I told him that you could visit Mae. I was - I was upset when I gave him that message, but I've never wanted to keep you from your daughter, Reverie had seen what it did to children, growing up without a father. She didn't want that for Mae.

I don't hate you, Akavir. I know I was wrong - back at Swiftcurrent Creek. But even if I did hate you, I care about Mae. And I think she needs you, Reverie sat, suddenly dizzy, but she tried to brush the feeling away. She asked me to teach her about poisons, weeks ago. I said no, and she was - she was so upset. I'm worried she might try to - to hurt herself.
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She spoke of Swiftcurrent Creek—he could have asked her what she meant, about believing she was wrong. There had been so many instances the two had butted heads… figuratively, at least. Lestan and Reverie’s obsession with one another—looking back to it now, he knew it had been unhealthy.

Lestan, his wayward cousin, seemed to be gone. He didn’t dare ask—and yet the lingering doubt that it was on the man’s own accord grazed the tip of his tongue as a question.

The Mayfair curse. Lestan had believed it deeply, and Akavir’s thoughts drifted to his grandfather for a moment… Until Reverie pulled his attention once more, dropping the mention of poison.

The weight of these words stirred him to sit heavily upon the ground, his muzzle tipping upward—eyes seeking the sky as he considered these words. There were so many ways once could harm themselves—learning the arts of poison seemed to be a delayed path to such an ending.

Yet still—nothing god could stir from the knowledge of it, truly. Would she harm herself, or another?

Mae was feisty. But devious enough to harm another in such a calculating and cold way? Surely not.

“Do you think she was looking for attention?”
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Akavir seemed to understand the gravity of it, at least enough to put aside his disdain for her. Maybe, Reverie answered, ears tilting back as she considered it. I've tried to be there for her, but she - she avoids me, and I have newborns to look after...

When I brought it up to her - that I was worried she would hurt herself, she blew up at me. She said that it - it would be nice to have the option, Of course, Mae had said so much more than that. But Akavir didn't need to know the hurtful things his daughter had said. All he needed to know was that Mae needed help that Reverie could not give. She loved the girl — but sometimes she was afraid of her, too. I don't know all of what happened before we found her, but she was... she nearly died. I've never seen wounds like that on any wolf before. And she won't talk about it. She hardly talks about anything.
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‘…would be nice to have the option…’

He exhaled sharply—for as stoical as he intended to be, it would be impossible to stop the shudder that coursed through him in that moment, the words like a punch to his abdomen. His eyes fell sharply to her, intense—staring—unable to even consider what words to speak to her.

There was a soft buzz in his ears—his most recent conversation with the gilded woman before him on replay in his mind

'She deserved a lot more than what you offered her,'

Scathing words, said to her regarding Moss, and in the end, it should have been said to him about Mae.

“I don’t know where the hell this all went so wrong,” he finally mumbled, eyes drifting closed for a moment.
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She saw how it hurt him; it was impossible to miss. For a moment Reverie was reminded of her own parents, if only because she wished that they had cared so much. They'd been so angry with her when they'd realized how broken she was.

And maybe it was stupid, but she was struck with the urge to offer some comfort to him then. Akavir, who had said such cruel things to her, who might scoff even now at her attempts at kindness. But his pain spoke to the mother in her; she couldn't help it.

It'll be okay, Reverie said softly. You're here now, and that matters. It counts. Sometimes - sometimes we can't protect them, but we can keep trying. And we can be there to help them heal. If there was anything she'd learned in raising Blossom, it was this. The world was a cruel place; it made no exceptions. It was a truth no parent wanted to accept, she felt, but there was no avoiding it.
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Up to you whether Akavir notices her or not!
The Harbinger was gone. Twice Mae had pursued his trail; twice she'd come to the same place at the edge of a great cliff overlooking the water. Twice she'd realized that the man was likely dead, and still she did not want to accept it.

She'd become a ghost along the outskirts of the pack's land. Mae lingered near the borders, filling the caches nearby but never venturing far beyond. No one would chase her off, she knew that. This had been her place before it was any of theirs. But part of her didn't even want it anymore; she stayed because she couldn't bring herself to abandon Reverie, not now.

Not that she'd spoken to the woman. Mae still couldn't bring herself to apologize properly. Instead she orbited the gilded wolf who had saved her life from a safe distance, always near but always just out of reach. It was easier that way — until it wasn't.

Until her father showed up at the borders.

She'd figured that someone would get there before she did, if only because the sound of his voice had frozen her in place for a time. It'd been weeks since she'd invited him here. At some point, Mae had stopped expecting him to come. But he was here now. He was here for her. She wasn't sure how to feel about it.

Eventually she found it in herself to trace a path to where he'd called from, though she found nothing there but his scent mixed with Reverie's. I hope I don't gotta break up a damn fight. She followed their trails slowly, half-expecting to hear yelling at any moment. Mae knew there was history there, a bad history.

What she didn't expect was to stumble into a conversation. Mae sucked in a breath and ducked behind a small rise in the earth without a second thought. And we can be there to help them heal. It was the kind of corny bullshit she'd come to expect from Reverie. But what were they talking about? Was this about her?

She held her breath as she listened, intent on finding out.
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Didn't notice her yet!

There was much that could be said in this situation—how he had been there, on the outskirts, trying to keep his family and pack safe.

But it was now clear it was not the safety they had wanted from him—and yet he could also not wish to backtrack and change any of it. How could he, when rogue bands attacked he and his Beta, witches hunted puppies and kingdoms enlisted pleasure slaves.

Always wishing to protect—and yet never managing to do it. Mae was scarred—physically, and emotionally. The boys were gone. Lilitu was now missing an eye and heavily scarred—Arielle, gone…

The hammering of his heart felt loud to him—he could only hope it was within his mind, as his eyes barely grazed Reverie, never wishing to be in such a vulnerable position with her above anyone else.

He just couldn’t trust her. It was sad to realize just how few he did trust… particularly within the passing months as true colors were revealed by so many… Maybe even himself. He felt his jaw tighten as his teeth clenched.

“If she needs some time to heal from your pack’s loss, I can extend a visitation to the creek for her… Her older sister just returned. Maybe an older sibling could help. But I won’t if you feel you need her here—for you and your young.”

He doubted Mae would go if she felt she was needed—but for some reason, he felt it important to let Reverie know he wouldn’t put the offer out there unless it was okay with her.

And he couldn’t quite pinpoint why.
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She let out a breath as the moment passed without hostility. She'd half-expected venom from him. They weren't friends, after all. If he had shown up at the borders only a few months prior, she would not have welcomed him, not personally. She would not have thought that Mae should return to Swiftcurrent Creek for any length of time, though she would have been glad to see the girl reunited with her father.

But Reverie had seen too much of Akavir in his daughter to hold on to her anger. She nodded quietly as he spoke of a visit, aware of the way he scarcely looked at her. It surprised her that he would run it by her at all. Was she reading too much into it? Yet it seemed very much as if Akavir's feelings mirrored her own; neither of them wanted to cause more hurt.

I think that would be good for her, Reverie agreed, softer in the way she regarded him now, as if he was a friend. He wasn't, but she could treat him like one. For Mae's sake, but for his and her own, too. We'll be okay here, but thank you for thinking of us. You can tell her I said that, too. She smiled faintly as she said it. Akavir would know as well as she did that Mae would need to hear it.

But her daughters were never far from her mind, and it occurred to her abruptly that she could not spend much longer apart from them. Her gaze flitted briefly in the direction of her den before returning to Akavir. I should get back to my daughters, She added, ears tilting back, and rose a little unsteadily. I'll um - I'll give you my scent, so the others know you're welcome here.

She stepped tentatively forward to brush her flank against Akavir's, as brief and light a touch as necessity would allow. Even so, it felt awkward.

Then she turned to leave, pausing only a moment to glance over her shoulder and add: Tell Mae I said hi, when you see her.
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None of it was as exciting as she'd hoped. The only thing that truly caught Mae's attention was when her father mentioned her older sister. Another daughter. He'd had children before her.

Mae was lost in thought. She didn't realize that Reverie was leaving until she'd already left, and then it was just Akavir and — well, her. But he didn't know that, did he? She rose from where she'd been crouched and started forward, not bothering to hide that she'd been eavesdropping.

Older sister? She questioned without preamble, eyes sharp on her father. Was that why it had taken him so long to visit?
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He looked to her—finally, a true look—and he could have swore her eyes were more gentle upon him now. He blinked and she stood—the trace of mothers milk coming over him as she stepped forward, the faintest trace of her against him to mark her scent upon him—

—and he then realized there was a stirring of pent up energy within him that had been satiated prior with the few female partners he had.

“I’ll just wait outside the borders for her,” he offered, his dark figure raising swiftly before he began a hasty retreat. Reverie called back to him, and he swung his own muzzle back to look at her, offering only a nod before continuing to sweep forward—

—Only to be in the sudden presence of his daughter—her eyes fast upon him, her question revealing she had been around for a bit, now.

Pale eyes swept over her—the barest quirk of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. “Your older sister, Lilitu,” he offered with a quiet rumble, uncertain if Reverie still watched them and unwilling to look back to her pale golden form.

“If you’re interested and have time, I can tell you about her and Arielle… her littermate.”
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He seemed unsettled. Mae squinted at him, unsure what to make of any of it. From what little she'd heard of the conversation prior, they hadn't been fighting. They'd been talking normally, which Mae hadn't really expected. Maybe Akavir was just surprised, too?

Either way, not her problem. Yeah, sure, She said after a moment, glancing in the direction Reverie had gone. Lilitu. Arielle. Names she'd never heard before, but her father offered them freely enough now. Mae couldn't say she was surprised to learn that he'd had children before her and her brothers. Disappointed, maybe, but she was beginning to learn that having children was just something people did. She still hadn't figured out why, but maybe they didn't know either. She wasn't sure she liked thinking about it anyway.

Maybe it was easier to focus on whatever weird drama followed her father. What'd she do to you? Mae questioned before he could say anything else, tone light with humor but equally demanding. Reverie wasn't exactly intimidating. But no one had ever really elaborated on what had happened between the two. Mae tried to picture Reverie kicking her father's ass and couldn't. It probably wasn't that simple anyway. Nothing ever was with her family.
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While Mae seemed interested in the subject of her sisters, she didn’t linger on it for long—instead, he was met with a narrowed gaze, and a jostle in the subject.

She must have meant Reverie—but the question was more loaded than Mae probably intended it to be, given the lighter tone of her voice. His tongue swiped against his lips—having been ignoring the strange branding that Reverie had left him upon his flank, and he cast a look in the direction she had disappeared—giving a shake of his head before looking back to Mae. “Nothing. Just a lot of unpacked history there,” he noted to her, pale eyes studying her features to see what she would make of that.

He wasn’t about to badmouth her leader and friend. But nor would he pretend their relationship  was anything but tumultuous.
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Unpacked history. It was evasive, just like the answers Reverie had given regarding her time at Swiftcurrent Creek. Mae hadn't pushed the subject. But Akavir was her father, and she felt he owed her answers.

Yeah? Like what? Her own silver gaze was equally intent and studying as she questioned him. Her father had never been very expressive, but she felt she knew how to read him. She was the same way, after all. She liked to imagine that these little stand offs, each watching the other closely for any hint of emotion, were their way of bonding over it.
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He assumed she would push the question—Mae was never one to be swayed when she wished to know something, but it was information that wouldn’t truly serve her well—nor any of them, really.

His felt a tick at the corner of his mouth—the set of his jaw clenching as he studied her, a gentle huff of a sigh escaping him. He had no desire to say anything bad about the woman who was Mae’s friend and leader—but nor would he swallow the entirety of the blame for their past. His days of falling upon a sword for the whimsical she-wolf were long past.

“I don’t really know, Mae. It was a culmination of events, I guess. But at the end of it… Lestan and Reverie, when they were together, were very… dependant… on each other,” he offered, pausing at certain words in an attempt to remain unbiased.

He blinked, recalling the way the two were—and some of the last words Lestan had uttered to him… The Mayfair curse.

“When Lestan left, Reverie was a wreck. At one point, she told me there was a witch trying to hunt Blossom—that she wanted her. I don’t know how she met this woman, or the events that led up to it… but this woman started stalking the creek. She left a dead coyote pup at our borders one day,” he spoke, his lip curling up at the recollection.

“Reverie was frantic, and I couldn’t risk you or your brothers… so I went to try to hunt the witch down. I found her in the marsh, and got into a fight. She managed to slip away—from me, and other creek wolves. And while Reverie said she was terrified of the witch and what she would do to Blossom… she still took the pup to the borders, constantly… Just carried her around with her everywhere, even though it wasn’t safe…”

He shrugged. “Lestan came back. Some wolf from Riverclan had come across him and the things Lestan spoke of… He wasn’t making a lot of sense. The Riverclan wolf pulled me aside and told me he was worried Lestan would hurt Reverie and he wanted to keep an eye on them… that he had knowledge and experience dealing with wolves that were… showing as a little unstable. I agreed—I couldn’t hunt a witch, try to fill our caches, do border patrol and see you, your brothers and your mother while also trying to make sure Lestan didn’t do anything to Reverie.” He paused, his gaze drifting downward. “But I shouldn’t have. Reverie had told me before she didn’t trust medics who felt they could ‘change’ her, so to speak… and in one of his updates, he told me he was medicating her… Which was odd, but he said she agreed to the treatment.”

Long-winded—the entire thing had been months in building to it’s final point. “Then your mom left. And you guys still needed milk—you probably could have survived without it, then, but I wanted what was best for you, and when I went to go tell Lestan and Reverie that I was going to Riverclan with you three, they basically told me I ruined their trust, didn’t give a shit about them and that they were leaving.” He gave a soft snort. “I felt pretty fucking defeated at that point. So I told them to fuck right off, and then made the trip with you three to Riverclan and we stayed there while Ash Paw and Silvertongue nursed you for the extra time you needed. They were gone when I came back.”
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It was perhaps the most words she'd ever heard her father speak without pause; Mae couldn't help but devote every ounce of her attention to his story. A culmination of events. It sounded dire. Yet as he went on, she found herself more annoyed than sympathetic to either of them, reading into both what he said and what he did not say. It sounded familiar if only in theme.

Something went wrong, so they'd avoided one another until it blew up and they told each other to get fucked. Yeah, she knew that one.

Mae supposed that if she had to side with either of them, it would have been Akavir, but largely she could summon nothing but apathy for events she could not remember and hadn't been a part of. It didn't matter half so much as the abrupt crumbling of the remnants of her childhood picture of the Infallible Adult.

She'd stopped believing a long time ago that all adults were good and kind. But she'd never truly stopped believing, above all else, that they knew what they were doing. That it was all intentional on some level, because how could they not know by now what kind of consequences their actions might have? Wasn't that the reward of adulthood, that knowing?

But it wasn't.

Perhaps not a conscious thought yet, this realization, but her heart fell with it nonetheless. You're both the same, The words poured from her bitterly before she could stop them. You never talk about shit until it's too late, and then - then sometimes you try, but you still don't get it, 'cause it's not a fuckin' one time thing. You're supposed to keep talking. You're supposed to show up every day, not just when you think something's wrong. And you - you -

Was she crying? Fuck.

I don't care if you hate Reverie, It came out louder than she'd intended. After a moment she caved to the urge to wipe her face, irritated by the itching feeling of cold tears against her cheeks. She couldn't stop crying. I wanna go home. I wanna pretend we know how to talk to each other. I wanna call you dad.

Mae didn't know what she was saying anymore. She felt too cold — or maybe just alone and scared, but cold was easier to feel. None of it seemed quite real.

As quickly as it'd fled, reality crept back in. The moment passed like a cloudburst; her tears dried. But I can't just - She glanced again in the direction Reverie had gone, voice still thick with emotion. They saved my life. Now Boone's dead and I can't even talk to Rev. I said some real shitty things to her. Dunno why she didn't kick me out, but she didn't. It'd be a dick move to leave now, right?

But - I dunno. I dunno what to do, Mae sniffled a little as she said it. She wasn't sure if she was asking for advice. It felt odd after her outburst. But it felt good, too. One step back and two steps forward; not quite traditional, but Mae never had been.
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Mature Content Warning


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It wasn’t surprising when another culmination of events played out before him—the spoken words were vitriol in their intention and tone, though the man remained curiously still. Whatever had occurred between Reverie and Mae was nothing he could even begin to speculate on—both were completely unreadable to him, in so many ways, but as her parent, it was clear who the true villain in her story was.

The truly sorrowful part of it all was that Akavir didn’t know when the drift that had started between them had become a canyon. Mae had reacted negatively when he had reprimanded her—and soon, his presence had been intolerable to her. Talking to her had seemed an impossibility.

Yet how many nights had he slept outside the den Jakoul and he had dug for their children? Wanting to maintain a distance in the sense that Jakoul had simply wanted children and wanted him to father them… And then, how many nights had Arric, or another slept with them, when Akavir had been, once again, outside of the territory, trying to control things that were so far out of his reach it was laughable.

He was a fucking fool.

“Mae,” he began, but found his voice cracking with the emotion—and thus quickly paused. She continued—the lift of a paw to wipe at the tears that fell from her eyes—holding back the very strong urge to reach for her and pull her in for a hug that only a father should have been able to give a daughter….

… Because he didn’t have that right anymore.

He didn’t know Boone, spare Reverie’s mention he was of importance to Mae. He knew of the quarrel—but he didn’t know the details. “We can never repay them for saving your life, Mae…” He shifted—a paw lifting, wishing to reach to her—but only allowing her to cross the distance if she chose to. “There’s never anything I could do to repay that to them. You know that, right? But you can come home. You can always come home.”

A pause, his eyes stricken upon her. “Please just come home.”
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Please just come home.

Something broke in her. Or — no, not a breaking but a falling away; that constant tightness in her chest, so familiar by now that she hadn't truly felt it until it loosened all at once. Her eyes burned with another surge of tears. This time she didn't care.

He wanted her to come home. Maybe she should have known that, but all she'd wanted was to hear him say it. Mae nodded, swallowing hard and drawing in a deep breath before she trusted herself to speak.

Okay, Little more than a whisper, but her voice grew stronger as she went on. Okay. I'll come home. I just gotta - I need to know they're gonna be taken care of, too. I'll figure it out. She was already half picturing how she might pull this off, but her head was all a mess and she couldn't hold her focus. She was going home. She was going home with her dad. That simple fact felt so much bigger than anything else.

And she too wanted to close that distance, had wanted it for so long, but she had never known how. It was easy with Arric. Once it'd been easy with Akavir, too, but as hard as she tried she couldn't seem to bring that feeling back. Not yet. Mae took a single step forward and lingered, hesitating. The thought of a second felt insurmountable. Maybe she wasn't ready.

But she was going home. They were going home, together. One step at a time.
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She met him halfway—literally, the hesitation that clung between them was palpable. Akavir, in all his life, had never pled to another—Ibis, and her betrayal. Eshe, leaving him. Silvertongue. Wren. Reverie and Lestan.

All who had come and gone.

But he would be on his knees to beg his daughter to come home—he would have done it for any of his children. And when she lingered, he rose, the barest graze of his forehead to press down to hers—a sharp inhale of his breath in this moment, knowing this was the best he would receive for now.

But fuck, he would work for it. A second chance.

“Let me know what I can do,” he let her know—he and Reverie had agreed upon Mae coming for a visit—he didn’t know how she would feel knowing the girl might return to her roots permanently.
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Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment at the brief contact. Mae was very still for a moment; she could feel her heart thrumming painfully in her chest. Nothing about this was easy. In a way it'd almost been easier to pretend that he didn't want to be her father, that she didn't want to be his daughter. Easier to cut herself loose and run, but it had hurt more, too.

When she opened her eyes again, the shine of tears had faded somewhat. She nodded as he spoke, somewhat surprised by his offer to help. It hadn't occurred to her that he might. This was her responsibility, after all; it was her life that they'd saved. But he was her father. Maybe it was time to try letting him play that role.

I gotta talk to Rev first. Will you come with me? The question felt strange and disjointed as it fell from her lips. But she wanted to try. She wanted that more than anything.
Swiftcurrent Creek
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Ooc — Rachel
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#25
It was a stolen moment between them both—accepted that this was all he deserved from her. For now, when she spoke, he allowed his eyes to close only a brief moment, recalling his worries that he would never hear her voice again as it was.

“Yup,” he agreed—withholding the slightest sense of dread in the pit of his stomach, for reasons perhaps he was unwilling to visit. Reverie’s disappointment in him was not a strange feeling or event—he would easily bear the potential brunt of this encounter for his daughter. And somehow, Swiftcurrent Creek would make it up to Hearthwood for it’s assistance for one of theirs.

Mae had always been one of theirs, even if she hadn’t felt it.