Felltree Marsh I'm left looking at the glowing ends

his brow wrinkled at her advice, and he found himself compulsively looking down, right where he tread, watching each step as if navigating a minefield. well, he was, of a sort. plant to plant to plant—oh, he loathed stepping on the only beauty in this horrid place! still, better than getting caught in the mud. he supposed it was a fair trade-off.

cam was glad that there weren't a great deal of marshes nearby. perhaps he'd stick around, after all. if it was only this one to deal with, it wasn't so bad. at the woman's query, he let out a quiet puff of air through his nostrils, still staring at his paws. mummy died, and i ran away, he said succinctly, his voice wooden. matter-of-fact.

it was just life. it was what had happened. when i came back home, everyone else had left. cam shrugged, his puzzlement evident across his face and in the tension of his muscles. they were approaching the willows and he felt a growing unease overtaking him; he choked it back, like acrid bile, focusing only on. . .

step. step. step.

here. we lived here, cam explained, glancing first to his companion, then to the trees just ahead.