Whitefish River And there ain’t nothing wrong with feeling strong

His heart squeezes, proud that Ira thinks Thistle will like this just as much as he does. It’s strange how happy he feels, and yet the lingering sorrow that sticks with it, too. His ears perk, smile, too, widening as Ira offers to gather feathers for him, only for it to deflate after she continues. Right, she… has to return to Easthollow. Mismatched green eyes avert to admire the tree again, instead of her. “Right, that would… mean a lot to me.”