Fox's Glade mellon collie and the infinite sadness

@Kiran set for the 9th

Her limbs turn more wooden with each step, sticking to the ground as if the slender girl had been born from the bough of some great tree rather than from a womb, and now seeks to cast her own roots into the earth. Truthfully, she might prefer such an end if she knew her true fate. Yet those are not the thoughts that plague her steps. It is the scent of Easthollow that brings heaviness to her limbs, the lingering memory of a silver boy with infuriatingly green eyes. Like his mother. Like her mother. She drops Stanley abruptly, agitated by the burden. The boy isn't here, and neither is their mother — and they won't come, surely, unless she calls. But she won't.
But... why is she here, then?