memory lane

"Well... good," she said tersely. He seemed to get the picture and she wasn't interested in rubbing his nose in it, even if she was still hurting. Her pain was private and she'd tend to it on her own, in her own time. Just like Rhyme's grief belonged to him, Theory's pain was hers alone. It couldn't be understood any plainer than she had already tried to communicate. Some things, she was learning, didn't really have words. The scope of your pain was impossible to explain to someone else; it was worse than a language barrier. It was untranslatable. Sighing heavily, she laid her head on her paws and followed Rhyme's gaze to the sky. "Poem has come home. We have plenty to be grateful for," she added. Theo was sure that Poem had already stopped to see her Tato. With Samara and Poem's help, she hoped they could restore Rhyme to the capable leader he had once been. "I like this Samara," she offered, her eyes glimmering with an unspoken mirth. "She asked to join recently. I welcomed her with open arms. Anyone who can bring you back to us in one piece is Abaven material."