Magg finally felt like she could trust that Aven was truly recovering, that it wasn't just one more cruel trick of hope before she lost another child. Thankfully, she and fate seemed to be in agreement so far; her little girls were precious, and they could not be separated. But would the Backwater continue to find them worthy of protection once her daughter's illness was gone? Magg couldn't be sure, especially when her own blood had sought her demise. If she played her cards right, though...

She sought out Viorel, who she felt had more authority and influence than his co-leader for several reasons. True security required staying within his sphere of protection for as long as he continued to reign. If she was to be outside it, she would never be safe here. It was a little strange though, following after his trail through the woods that had not changed all that much since the first, and last, time she'd come to this place. Magg's head swum with memories of that visit as she walked, and the fragile connections made which had since disintegrated with time.

Is this how it would feel if she ever returned to that bend in the river far west, years from now when the storm passed?

"Viorel?" Magg called out. Her voice was smaller than she liked, and so she cleared her throat and tried again.

"Sir? Do you have a moment?"