@brennerkeaton
it had been half a century since they last rendezvoused in the forest like this. fifty summers had come and gone, which should have been nothing to her, who had seen the passing of so many centuries, but all that had transpired within those fifty years had aged her. she was no longer that happy, free girl that had chased through these trees with him. wisdom and grief weighed her down, now. a thumb rubs circles into her palms, anxiety and regret washing over her in waves so overwhelming she thought she might drown in them. it’s been five decades, why bring up the past now? why open old wounds? a softer, more sensible part of her whispered that he had the right to know. that he should know. sometimes bones need to be broken to be reset. gods, she was a coward. even now, the thought of fleeing sounded more welcoming than seeing him. there was a time when the thought of him made her heart nearly leap out of her throat, not sink as it did, now. heightened senses perk at the familiar sound of approaching footfall, halting her pacing mid-stride, her head whipping around to look over her shoulder. “brenner?”