Honeycutt had come to live here willingly, but the decision was never one she’d favored. If she had her choice in the matter she would’ve fled the very moment she crossed the threshold into the territory. But… that would leave Osmanthus completely alone in this place, and Honeycutt quietly worried what that might do to his psyche to be left in somewhere like this. She would much rather endure any sort of hell than to ever turn away from him, not after she had become so devoted to him from their first conversation, through the birth of her daughter, and even trailing his travels around and across the islands.

All was well anyways, she hadn’t once been harassed or had any interaction with any of the bachelors who lived here, not even the one who’d forced Osmanthus to come live here in the first place. Honeycutt was quite used to being a wallflower, having grown up always being looked over as a prospective partner. Too short. Too thick.

For once she was relieved to be reminded of it, because it meant she was left alone. She could dart along from dry ground to dry ground, splashing as quickly as she could through any water or soft, shifting mud she had to cross. She could find her ways through the tree cover where it hadn't grown so thick, where she could manage to walk around the trunks and duck under low branches. Honeycutt trailed paths that didn’t have freshly worn hoof-tracks, or any at all… but she always stayed somewhere close to Osmanthus.

She wanted to be by his side the same way a freshly born foal stuck right up to its mother’s hip, never straying even an inch away from him. At night she wanted to tuck her cheek into the hollow dip of his neck, against his muscled chest, and breathe his warm, rich masculine scent to coax her to sleep rather than the sea salt brine and mineral-rich mud of the Lagoon. She wanted to gather up thick hunks of his mane and tug him as hard as she had to until he walked with her and far, far away from the Lagoon.

But Honeycutt was not brave enough to do any of those things, so she stuck to the underbrush of the Lagoon, trailing Osmanthus much like she had as he wandered the islands. Afraid, again, to confront him and face whatever this limbo was they were in and where it had taken them.