Fairspell Meadow I really hope that you find happiness

The stonework clambored until it settled at the base of the hill, some dust scattering against the frigid wind in those last few moments. He did not see the stacks upon stacks of rolling stone and debris; for those fleeting moments Sobek saw the ruined tree, and the silhouette of the wolf he had been following looked more like the speck of tail wedged beneath. His eyes were wide and glossy with emotions that made no sense — and as he neared the stranger, heard that foreign voice, Sobek returned to reality, to the present. He saw the pale face and the ginger accents, knowing immediately he had been imaginging things. This wasn't his brother; that wasn't a tree uprooted.

N.. no, he murmured through gritted teeth, not realizing how tense he'd become in that vision. He thought he saw something move in the murky cloud of debris all the same, and stared at the settled rocks as if they might come to life; but when nothing moved except the slight undulation of the stranger's ribs as they continued to breathe (alive! they're alive!) Sobek took a deep breath and exhaled, watching a plume of his breath unfold from his snout.

He was... He was here, I saw him! Sobek protested as he advanced upon a pile of the stones, clamboring atop a segment of uneven tophography and scrambling when his too-short limbs couldn't carry him further; he kicked and lurched, moving bits of rock out from beneath his hind limbs as he went, so that the pile slid and he was lightly carried back down to where he started. There was nothing there but the gaping dark between the rocks and yet he stared in to it like it was a hollow, a portal to where his brother might be waiting.