Stone Circle life is old there, older than the trees

A warm and genuine smile stole over Merrit's face when his sister crested the central hill. She had grown since he'd last seen her - amazing, what even a month could do - but he could tell by the way she careened toward him that she hadn't changed. Keen had been the one who had shifted like the tides, but Arlette had always been a constant. She had remained true and strong in the face of life's troubles, and Merrit had come to realize that he admired her for that, among so many other things.

Like how freely she felt to express her; she bubbled in excitement, and the shrug of a laugh pressed through his smile. She hadn't changed, and while he covered a small distance to fill the gap between them, he allowed his sister to complete their collision.

Arlette had surprising strength to her, but Merrit had size and a force of steel, yet he kept himself from bracing and shifted his weight to assist her course. He could tell what she was trying to do, and soon the sky spun from above him, and he hit the ground with an oof! The damp grass splayed about his shoulder, and the weight of his sister pressed against his chest - yet her warmth flooded him, and he eased into her embrace.

He had missed her so, so much.

Her own words seemed to echo his thoughts, and he sought to comfort her, "I missed you, too," he mumbled back, "but we don't have to anymore. I'm coming home. To stay." He hadn't found father, or what he'd been looking for, but he'd come to realize he had always had everything he'd needed all along, here at Easthollow - and as his heart stung, he held Arlette closer.