Greatwater Lake gillyweed

The next question to come from the youth was much more broad, making up for the silence that had come between them. Not that Dirge had minded the lapse in conversation. So far all he had seemed to do was stonewall conversations left and right, present company excluded. At least the boy took it better than previous encounters.

"Not really," he said. The least he could do was humor him, he decided. "A few days, maybe." Maybe a few more than that. Every day had put him a step further away from home and those were the things he counted. Dirge pressed ahead: "I'd imagine you were born around here. A forest, perhaps?" Easthollow certainly sounded like it belonged to a woodsy locale anyway. Names for places and the canines therein had become more common the further north the trio had come at least.