She'd gotten herself into one of those situations again: alone with somebody stronger than her, and not entirely sure she could — or should — trust them. Svenden really wanted to protect her from situations like this, but somehow she'd still talked him into letting her do it.
And why? She couldn't sense Myndrith's emotional state, so she couldn't be confident that she was safe with her. And yet, here she was, walking through the Forest of Mellesh with Myndrith, having sent her protector away on a whim.
Still, she had to believe that a lifetime as friends meant something here, even as Myndrith struggled with a toxic resentment that had literally transfigured her into a weaponized version of herself.
"You can carry a sword, if you want," Myndrith said calmly.
Callyndia looked at her quizzically. There was no readable expression on Myndrith's wooden face as she looked ahead of her. Her mind was clearly elsewhere, and her body was so connected with the forest that she didn't even have to look down to see where she could safely step to avoid roots and undergrowth.
"I don't think that's necessary," Callyndia said.
"I think you should," Myndrith said.
That wasn't comforting. "I don't need a weapon, Myndrith," Callyndia said, "We're not going to fight."
Myndrith nodded absently. "I suppose that's always been your preference, hasn't it?" she said, "Fighting without weapons. Disarming opponents with your charms and your wit and your magic."
"I don't have any opponents here," Callyndia replied, "There's no one to disarm or charm." She gently ushered a low-hanging tree limb away from her face as she walked. "And my magic doesn't work well against fairies, anyway."
Myndrith walked on in silence for another moment before speaking again. "I don't want to hurt you," she said. Her tone had been soft, but there was a distant quality to it that made Callyndia's mind shudder.
"Then don't," Callyndia said, keeping her tone light and casual, "I'm not going to hurt you, either. I love you, Myndrith: you're my friend."
Myndrith nodded again, and kept walking. She looked down at one of her taloned hands, turning the hand over a couple of times to see it from several perspectives. "I used to be able to pull a sword from a tree," she said distantly, "But now, it just feels like it hurts them when I do it. So I grew my own swords now."
Callyndia swallowed a little lump in her throat. "Do they ever... go away?" she asked.
Myndrith shook her head head slowly, her eyes fixated on her claws as she did. "I used to be able to absorb them back into my fingers," she said, "But I haven't tried in a long time."
"Well, do you want to retract them?" Callyndia asked.
Myndrith's brow crumpled a little in confusion, and tilted her head to the side in that unsettling, bird-like fashion. "I don't know," she said.
"Well, that's okay," Callyndia replied as levelly as she could, "You don't have to make any special efforts on my behalf: I'm comfortable just walking here with you."
"No, you're not," Myndrith said. Her dull tone made it sound nonconfrontational, but it still felt like a little tingle of ice in Callyndia's heart.
"What makes you say that?" she asked.
"You're not wearing a talisman to hide your emotions," Myndrith replied.
Callyndia lifted an eyebrow at that. "Are you wearing one?" she asked. Up until this point, she had just assumed that Myndrith was wearing one.
Myndrith nodded again.
"And it doesn't stop you from sensing my emotions?" Callyndia asked.
"No, it does," Myndrith replied, sounding almost sad, "I was lying. I can't sense your emotions. I just know what you're feeling. Everyone is uncomfortable around me."
"So, is the talisman there so I can't sense your emotions?" Callyndia asked, "Or is it there so you can't feel mine?"
Myndrith didn't answer, but she began looking down again, as if she suddenly needed to watch her footing.
"I do love you, Myndrith," Callyndia said, "If you let me in, I'll let you in too."
After a few moments of walking on in silence, the dryad hesitantly placed her talons against her chest. The wooden sinews of her chest twisted aside, and extruded a carved disc of wood. Myndrith extracted it and held it in her hand, staring at it for another moment. Finally, she turned her hand upside-down and let the talisman drop to the ground.
Instinctively, Callyndia stretched out the fingers of her magic, and she could sense a rich soup of emotions flowing away from Myndrith. Some of it felt ugly — bitter, sad, angry — but there was some warmth and sweetness there too. A lot of anxiety, and a lot of helplessness.
Within a few moments, she could also sense Myndrith's fairy magic extending outward in hesitant waves. The fingers of their magic slowly laced together into a tapestry, and they shared everything with each other. It wasn't all pretty, but after a few trials and errors, after some effort and investment, they got to a place where they could accept each other.
Callyndia could tell that it would still be a journey ahead of them, but this was a good start. She reached out to take Myndrith's hand in her own, and squeezed supportively.
Myndrith squeezed back. And as Callyndia watched, Myndrith's talons seemed to shrink, and the blackness of them faded away.
She smiled affectionately at her friend.