Arrow Lake The terror you feel in quiet moments is not misplaced, just mistimed

Dragomir did not mope; he strained against his mother's grasp as she pulled him back into the thicket, then fought some more, eager to continue out into that light-filled world beyond their small home. She'd really done it this time. One glimpse was all he needed, and Dragomir was ready to fly the coop. For the next few weeks, as long as it took for the reins to loosen, he would take every chance he got to run for that entryway. Everyone—Verx, Aure, their various sitters—would have their hands full with him.

But Aure didn't let him go, and eventually he just drifted down into sleep. But it was fitful, filled with images that were not the ones of his dream realities. They were images of the real world, of light on dark and new leaves fluttering in the breeze. He would wake with the same longing he fell asleep with, later, but for now he slept.