Fairspell Meadow of little wings of white-flamed butterflies in my brain

By their mother's decree they had to go. The forest was unstable; the ravens were gone, the tunnels could not withstand the quakes which repeatedly destabilized the terrain. They had lost Anansi. So when Maegi gave the order, her voice lacking any warmth at all, Sobek knew not to question her. He sought out his sister and together the twins moved, supporting one another when necessary, until the woods were no longer sheltering their small, red-brown bodies. There were two, when there should have been three.

As Sobek marched he found it difficult to avoid thoughts of his pale brother, his mind flashing through the last few moments of his life; the cracking sound of the tree losing its foothold in the soil, the lurch of shadow, the scream cut short and siphoned in to death—over and over these images played within his head, and Sobek was silent throughout. A drizzle had begun as the little family began to march through the edge of the forest and by the time they were away from it, deep within the meadow and so terribly exposed, a cold rain had taken over.

The stars overhead were weeping, which felt right to Sobek, since he could not.