Drooping Willows long grey mare

I have loved the stars too fondly

She was constantly surprised with how humble Gitano was with everything. It really spoke to her and she found herself more and more liking the boy. He gave her a sad smile and her ears fell slightly. She never liked that look given to her much, especially not lately. It made her think of her follies and the anger at herself surfaced for a moment, a little pang of guilt in her chest.

She offered a small smile of her own to him. “Thank you, Gitano. I suppose I have a lot to look into myself at. Perhaps my ancestors can help me with that,” she replied. The silvery woman moved forward and pressed her nose to his cheek in offering of peace. It had been a long time since she’d practiced any sort of tradition from her tribe, but she felt if anyone could understand her motions it would be the boy. “You have been much help, I do hope the stars align in a way that allows us to see each other again. Remember what I told you about my pack, you are always welcome at our borders,” she said before turning and making her way back to her home.

To be fearful of the night