Gwynevere looked out through one of the windows in the infirmary, peering out at the dark night that surrounded the castle. Ysmir was already fast asleep upstairs, but she couldn't quite manage sleep herself so she had quietly slipped out of their room and made her way down to the infirmary instead. She had thought that maybe doing some work would help settle her mind and get her to eventually relax enough to get to sleep, but even after quite a bit of time of sorting herbs, working on her stock of extracts and poultices, and generally cleaning up around the infirmary she was still wide awake. It had been a long time now since she had encountered such trouble sleeping and she was reluctant to take any of the herbs she had that would make her sleep. She thought that she was past this insomnia that had hit her both after her mother's death and the attack she had endured from Oxx, but recent events brought up old, unresolved emotions so it made these old symptoms rear their ugly heads.

While she hadn't known Briar's mother well at all, seeing the Fatalis woman so quickly wilt away and experiencing the grief around her from both Briar and her other family that were currently staying in the castle reminded her too much of seeing her own mother deteriorate. She had pushed off the thoughts and emotions of it until after Zee was gone, focusing entirely on keeping the woman as comfortable as she was able and working hard to replenish the herbs she was using to do so, but now that she had made her leave and the frequent visits in and out of the infirmary had come to a stand still, she was left alone in the quiet ward with nothing left but her thoughts and regrets. She knew that was the curse of being a healer and not being able to save them all. It was a fact she had come to accept after Resin passed, but it still hit just as hard every time. She looked out toward the stars and the moon that gave everything beyond the old, slightly clouded glass a soft glow, her mind and thoughts wandering though the past and events that she usually avoided thinking about.

With a defeated sigh she turned around to start heading toward her store of herbs to see if she could find something that could ease her thoughts. As she turned she walked past one of the dividers that Resin had commissioned for her infirmary and she paused, her ears flicking back against her head as she lifted a paw to rest on the edge of it. Had her mother even seen the infirmary in its finished state before she passed? Gwynevere had still been training and honing her skills when her mother locked herself away and this had been one of the gifts that had been given to them the last time she actually saw their mom. Now that she thought back she realized that Resin had never actually seen what this came to be. For some reason that hit her harder than she expected it to and she fought against the wave of emotions as she walked across the room to a cabinet that held some of her personal stash of more rare herbs and plants—the ones she didn't necessarily want the whole pack to have free access to.

Sorting through the leaves and concoctions she had been experimenting with, she pulled out a small jar that held a mix of a few recreational herbs that at one point had been a go to in order to help her sleep. It would have been easy enough to take her herbs with her upstairs and fall asleep in her room with Ysmir, but instead she took the mix of ground and extracted herbs over to one of the cots and settled onto it, toying with the jar for a moment before she took a healthy dose of her self prescribed medicines. It was slightly bitter and slightly sweetened, but fairly pleasant since she tended to make her medicines as palatable as she could. Gwyn rested her head on her paws after setting the jar off to the side, looking off toward the nearby fireplace and watching the low fire dance within the hearth as it cast light around the room. There was so much regret for what could have been, so much longing for what could never be, lingering on her mind as the herbs slowly began to take effect, the feeling of lightness and a pleasant tingling over her skin starting to take hold.

As the drowsiness started to tug at her mind and her mint and lavender gaze started to drift closed behind heavy eyelids, Gwyn kept looking toward the door of the infirmary, imagining what it would be like to have her mother walk through it and see all of this that she had put so much work into. She had always worried that she wouldn't measure up to her siblings who took to the more knightly path, but she hoped that wherever their mother was, if she could see her now, that she was proud of what she had created here and was happy with how she was using the tools she had been gifted. Gwyn started to drift off, her mother heavy on her mind, and wishing desperately that she could see her one more time even though the staunchly logical side of her denied that would ever be possible. Her eyes closed and she drift off as the tingling over her skin intensified, the heaviness of her emotions feeling dampened and her body beginning to feel like it was floating as she fell asleep.

She wasn't sure how long she had been sleeping, but eventually she blinked open her eyes, still feeling a bit of the effects of the drug she had taken, but she suddenly didn't feel like she was alone. She assumed that either Ysmir had come looking for her or perhaps someone had come to the infirmary looking for some kind of help or supply, but when she lifted her bleary eyes she found herself looking at the familiar yellow gaze that she had been thinking of before she drifted to sleep. Her eyes widened and she wondered for a moment if she was dreaming, but even if she was she wasn't sure she minded. "Mom?" she asked quietly, clearly skeptical as she slowly lifted her head, blinking and trying to clear the bleariness out of her vision to make sure she wasn't just imagining things or that her medicines hadn't been stronger than she had anticipated.

Gwynevere | Eilwen

It was the time of year where she was destined to walk the world of the living, it seemed. Samhain made the world thin and the veil between the dead and the living slipped away until it was naught but a sheer sheet, able to be pushed through. Sometimes, like tonight, she had no choice. Strong thoughts of her could pull her between worlds just as it had been with Rudyard. In this instance, it was Gwynevere. The woman must have dreamt about Resin deeply to call her here. When Resin somewhat materialized in the living world, her singular gaze fell upon the sleeping form of her daughter. The specter moved across the stone floor and seated herself beside the cot where Gwyn lay. She was content to stay here and watch over her child for as long as she needed. With no need to move, the hulking fae remained still as stone, like some black and grey gargoyle built to watch over the castle. That was how Gwyn found her when she finally woke. The tentative voice met obsidian ears and Resin turned her attention to the girl. No, she was a woman now. It was difficult to believe. "Gwynevere," she spoke in turn though her voice was a little less solid than it once was. "Is there something troubling you, love?" The brow above the woman's golden eye raised. She would very much like to embrace her daughter, but there was no substance to her body. She was simply smoke and dust. "Speech"

Gwyn still wasn’t entirely convinced that a hallucinogenic drug hadn’t somehow ended up in her mix or that maybe it was an added side effect to letting the herbs sit together for awhile. But she wanted to believe that this was real. She wanted to believe that she was finally getting a chance to see her mother again and was being given the opportunity to show her mother everything she had accomplished for her. A relieved smile pulled across her features as Resin spoke, even if her voice was slightly distorted and distant. It was still the voice she remembered and that alone did a lot to soothe the longing and the feeling that she never really got the closure she needed.

“I was just thinking about you,” she admitted after her mother asked if something was troubling her. And about how I never got to show you the infirmary when it was finished.” Gwyn got up from where she was laying, stepping down off of the cot so she could live this dream of showing Resin what she helped create. “These are all of the dividers and cots you gifted to me. They really have been so helpful and have made all the difference here. And I fixed up these cabinets to hold our supplies and I have this desk here so I can work on different poultices and medicines.” Gwyn eagerly moved around the room, showing her mother all the pieces of it, opening the cabinet to show the rows of bandages, threads, needles, bowls, and vials, walking over to the desk where a few of her extracts were still steeping.

She hardly took her gaze off of her mother, afraid that if she looked away for too long then she’d be gone. After her little tour she came back to where her mother was standing, giving her a slightly bashful smile, feeling a bit like a pup again coming to show her a leaf she had found even though she knew it wasn’t something her mothers had ever had a knowledge or interest in. “You just… You inspired me to create all of this and I’ve always wanted to show it to you.”

Gwynevere | Eilwen

It took Gwyn a moment to absorb the situation and come to the realization that yes, her mother was actually present. Or as present as she could be. Resin watched the sleepiness drain from her daughters face and watch with singular vision as Gwyn slid from the cot. The younger woman admitted that she'd been thinking of her mother and Resin nodded. She knew, otherwise she wouldn't be here. The black and grey girl began moving around the infirmary, showing Resin all of the things that she hadn't been able to show her in life. Memories of her final days were cloudy due to the illness that had taken her, but she did remember something about commissioning the dividers and cots as a gift. They had turned out well and seemed quite sturdy just as she had expected. Gwyn hardly took her gaze off of her mother and Resin did the same, watching her grown child move through a space that was very much hers. There was a confidence in the woman as she traversed the infirmary. Gwyn was an otherwise timid creature and had been made more so after her confrontation with Oxx, from what Artorias had told her however long ago. As Gwyn smiled somewhat bashfully and admitted that she'd always wanted to show her mother what she'd become and what she'd made, Resin rose and moved towards her. The massive maned woman stopped before the smaller fae, looking down upon her with an uncommon warmth in her luminescent golden eye. "I never had a doubt that you'd be a master in whatever path you chose, Gwynevere. Being a healer suits you." Though she knew her paw would go right through the girl, Resin's pads left the floor and moved up to slide through Gwyn's cheek. "I'm so very proud of you, love." "Speech"

Gwynevere had never really doubted that her mothers appreciated her work or that they were proud of her, but being the only healer out of a litter full of fighters and warriors with two mothers that had both always been praised for their skill in fighting had always made her feel a bit like the odd one out. She had struggled with how to relate to her family for a long time and had withdrawn into her work, leaning more on Eilwen for company and support than anything else in her youngest years. She didn't hold any resentment toward any of her family, but it was something that she had found herself working through as she got older. It was one of the reasons why she felt so silly showing off all of this hard work to her mother no matter how much she had wanted to.

As Resin moved toward her, Gwyn tipped her head up to keep her gaze on the familiar, singular gaze of her mother, surprised by how much warmth was there. Just as she had never doubted her mother's pride, she had never doubted her love either, but she had always shown it in different ways than how Tamsyn had. She was less expressive, less outwardly affectionate. It had never been a problem, it was just how her mother was. Still, it made emotion well up in her chest to see that warmth and love in her mother's gaze as she talked about how being a healer suited her and how proud she was. Gwyn wanted to feel her mother's touch so badly, but when her large paw lifted toward her cheek there was just a faint feeling of warmth and a whisper of what might have been a touch—or perhaps it was just her willful imagination. The intention was there though and Gwyn couldn't help the happy tears that started to well up in her mixed lavender and mint gaze.

"Thank you, mom," she replied quietly, doing her best to keep her voice from wavering as she smiled up at her lost mother. The analytical, logical, scientific side of her brain still couldn't quite believe that this was really her mother in front of her and not some drug induced, hopeful vision of her, but her heart wanted to believe. She wanted to believe that this was really her and she could go on with the comfort that her mother had gotten to see the result of what she had inspired and provided for and that she was proud of what she had created. "I love you. I'm really glad you got to visit."

Gwynevere | Eilwen

The pure emotion on Gwyn's face brought the faintest of smiles lifting the corners of the scarred woman's maw. She never doubted that Gwyn loved her, even when the girl had shrunk from her in fear when she was ill and barricaded in the dungeon. She hoped that her children didn't doubt her love for them in turn. She was proud of them all, for the most part. Some were more put together than others, but she wanted to believe that they'd all turn out well in the end. Something on the table behind Gwyn caught her attention. A rather large wolf skull with serrated teeth, cleaned and gleaming. A sad little smile pulled at the woman's features and her brows drew together. They'd gotten him. Gotten him before he'd gotten them. It was good... but it still pained Resin that it had come to such an end. In a way, Oxx had been a monster of her own creation. Both she and the dead brutes father had set his course in life. It was a regret that she would always carry. A familiar tingle was creeping up the specters spine. It was as though she was being disintegrated particle by particle. It was time to go. Resin brought her gaze to Gwyn's face, trying to memorize the features. "Be strong, Gwyn. Take care of them so they don't end up like..." Again her gaze flitted to the skull on the desk. Oxx hadn't had the same love and support system that Gwyn and her siblings had. If they stayed together, stayed close, perhaps they would all turn out well. She was fading, her incorporeal form became thinner and thinner, the last visible remnant being that glowing eye. She didn't know when she would see her daughter again, but Resin firmly believed that they would all join her on the mountain some day. Perhaps Oxx was there waiting for her even now. "Speech"