Golden Glade to forge a path into the marrow of the spirit

Things felt like they were happening too fast. Yet the day of their grand move had drug out uncomfortably, at least in Phoebe's eyes. She hadn't quite fallen to the rear of the group as they had move the short trip, all too well aware of the growling she had heard carrying on back there, but she did not carry the enthusiasm that would have cast her to the front of the lot.

She hated this, every ounce of it. For a creature that so very rarely ventured out, leaving the safety and the familiarity of the plateau behind was not unlike a waking nightmare. But it was one of many in her reality, the second and just as fresh strike was the fact that soon it would not just be she and her sibling that her mother looked after. It should have been a happy occasion for her family twice over, but to Phoebe it was days of doom and gloom.

Listlessly, she milled about with the others as her mother spoke, and tried to keep her emotions in check. It would have been fairly easy to whine and carry on like a child but she was far from the child here now, and those children seemed to be handling it with some degree of decorum that she too had to possess. Her gaze was glassy as she looked past them to their parents and then onward to her own, and she felt a painful lump rise in her throat again.