Hoshor Plains We picked up the shards and formed them into shapes of stars

Tagged for reference (though feel free to join)

It was a cool, quiet night. In a way, it matched the Flatlands as the flurry of activity from the hunts began to wane. A soft breeze caressed Sumac’s ebony coat, causing waves of russet and golden highlights to flicker across his silhouette like fields of wheat in the moonlight. 

He ambled on hushed paws through the grasses, nose and tail down. Was he searching for something? Even he didn’t know. @Easy had left to take care of some unknown business, and he hadn’t seen @Minnow in some time. No, he was alone right now, and the ghosts refused to be ignored.

The smell of burning wood, the acrid smoke making his eyes water… Hawthorn’s scream of terror, Ma’s prayers…

The dead were alive again in his mind, dying all over again.

Shaking his head vigorously, the lanky Mackenzie quickened his pace, blindly ascending a small hill as his leaden heart made each step ever more laborious. With a sigh, he lowered himself into a seated position upon the hill’s crest, his amber gaze lifting to the sky.

Funny, when he took in the whole tapestry of the night sky, he could almost see their faces in the patterns the stars wove. Da’s stern gaze; Ma’s reassuring smile; his sister, Hawthorn’s laughing maw; little brother Yarrow’s sheepish grin… and all the others. They were right there. Still here, and yet gone forever. ‘Mac continued to stare at the twinkling lights, his mind still trying to process all that had happened this past summer.