Hushed Willows sugar magnolia

Some days are better than others.

If he felt like lifting his head off the grass, he would have nodded. Instead, after a lingering pause, he just agreed. "Yeah," he sighed. He knew this all too well. There were good days, bad days, and a whole range in between. Sometimes it didn't matter what happened, there would be no changing it. Today, he suspected, may shape up to be one of those days because he didn't have the energy to go fighting against it constantly.

"I wish there were more better ones," he grumbled into the grass. "Have you seen Mom lately? I hope hers is better," he asked, peering sidelong at his father for a beat while worry bled into his tone. His father seemed tired, but to Silas, that was default. As far as he knew, the searches for Pippin had yet to turn up anything so he understood that morale would not be at its best with that weighing them all down. The dark brother had long since worried about him, among all else.