Hushed Willows And I won't help but stare at every word

backdated to nov 27 @Andraste

The trek to the Land of the Willows was both longer than expected and remembered; his memories were seemingly skewed, perception of distance and time unreliable. Even the land itself offered little insight as to where he was, the sights different and the scents hardly brushing a memory, let alone taking hold. There was little more he could do than blindly follow the woman, trusting in her that she may take him back to where life itself began for the masked beast.

Eventual spotting of the dancing trees alighted something within him that he could not name; it was a feeling unheard of, something felt so long ago that he once wondered if it ever existed at all. But alive again it was, bubbling up inside his chest and pouring out into the external realm by way of a deep, drawn-out sigh: “It has not changed much…”