They are panicking, she muses. After listening to the boy admit why he is here, why he abandoned the sanctuary of the mountain, Cerva reflects on everyone she knows and where they could be. When she looks up at the towering peaks she wonders if a piece of the Gates is there glimmering in the snowy tops or in the lushness of the grass or in the strength of the rocks. She wants to venture there and see it all for herself but the boy confirms her fears. It’s too frantic there as minds are jostled as much as the world. Everyone is scrambling to understand what ground they are standing on and what air they are breathing. It must be chaos on the mountain. ”I see,” she mutters as tendrils of her memory reach back for her family and for the Gates. If only she could see them, feel them, hear them, but it seems she is alone once more.
Her nutmeg eyes flicker to Devov. ”I’m happy you decided to leave then,” adoration caresses the sweetened notes of her voice, ”I wouldn’t want to see you like that either.” The concern blazing in his eyes distracts her from how young he is; for a fleeting moment she thought she was being reassured by a lover, but he is a colt and not yet grown. A sheepish grin twitches at the corners of her lips as she realizes her mistake and how forsaken she is. Her heart crumbles for a deep breath, but when she recognizes his lopsided smile she tries to forget her solitude. Sweet, sweet Devov is patching the hole in her heart; he’s the angel that she has been asking for.
”I do not yet have a home,” the confession incinerates her throat like acid but she still tries to soothe him with a smile, and finally, a touch. Her lips press against his poll and her hot breath fans across his skin. ”But we have each other at least,”and now she pulls Devov into her side and breathes him in, ”and we can find a home together.” Excitement grips her suddenly when the words fall like silk and wrap around him. This is the beginning of a new chapter, of a new life, but it’s beginning with an unexpected step into motherhood. There is no required speech or official way of saying it. The silence that cradles the air between them and the manner in which she stands alongside him is enough to say ‘you’re mine.’
Cerva