Honeyed Pasture beta

just as he'd made up his mind to sink low, to give himself up, a figure appeared on the horizon—and spoke his name.

his sight was blurred, weary as he was, but there was no doubt as to who this was once the young man was close enough.

beta.

arjun, aditya replied, voice hoarse. he cleared his throat. dutch. . .i should ask the same of you. why aren't you at white spine?

he pushed his son's query aside, for now. he could not defer the pain of saying it aloud, not for long—but for a moment, at least.