“We’ll be fine, Dad,” Firethorn assured her father, rolling her eyes at the scowl he gave her for being so flippant. “We are perfectly capable of getting to Tinuvel in one piece.”

“I know,” Valentine replied with a sigh, trying to shrug away the annoyance he felt. It was not directed towards his daughter, or even anyone else in particular, it was simply the thought of his daughters going away that made him anxious and irritable. “I’m just worried about you, that’s all.”

Firethorn was not one for public displays of affection – that was Foxglove’s domain – but she seemed to take pity on her father in that moment, and bumped her nose against his cheek with a grin. She would miss her father and the Prairie, but she wanted exploration and adventure – the only things her home could not offer her in good measure – so she seemed as good a candidate as any to take Pagan up on his offer.

“You shouldn’t worry,” she said, pulling away from him again, though she knew the words would do no good. It didn’t matter, however, as Valentine appeared not to hear her as his gaze suddenly fixed upon something over her shoulder in the distance.

His expression was somewhere between surprise and concern, and Firethorn could not help but turn to see what had caught his attention. Upon seeing the two figures on the horizon, she suddenly understood the strange expression that had swept across her father’s face. Her mother and her sister stood there before them for the first time in months.

Wordlessly, the pair agreed to go forth and meet them.

“Mum.” Firethorn was the first to speak, a small smile splitting her lips as she went towards her mother and sister. She went to brush up alongside her dam, pressing her face affectionately into her shoulder in greeting. Turning to her twin, she offered her a grin and bumped her nose against her chin. “Aubrey.”

Valentine hung back slightly. He offered his daughter a warm smile, and once Firethorn was done greeting her he offered his nose in greeting. He had missed her.

He had missed Meradith too, of course, but he wasn’t yet sure how to feel about the way she had just disappeared without a word. It reminded him of the way Proudmane had deserted Foxglove, and that memory was painful for him. But here she was – she had returned, and Valentine had no intention of starting an argument with her until she had said her piece, and most certainly not in front of the children.

“Meradith,” he greeted her simply. “It’s good to see you again.”

VALENTINE
you bleed just to know you’re alive