Closing her weary eyes, the world changes. Four white plaster walls became a light salty breeze again, a misty mountainous castle view, a colorful loud marketplace, a green field with sheep; each adventure coming together to form the closest thing she's ever known to "home."
The time of waiting, of in-between, seems infinite when it is upon her. The lightning laces across the sky and the rain sings on the tin roof as if it understands her frustration. Memories spring up and haunt both day and night, taunting, tempting her to join them in bouts of nostalgic depression. Like an exotic bird trapped in a cage, alone except for its memories of flight.
"Wait," He whispers, so quietly she could easily fool herself into thinking she didn't hear. "Wait here for now, beloved; be still, and quiet, and listen. Wait just a little longer; you can't imagine the riches I have in store for you."
