Hushed Willows Once more, I climbed up to the bones of Moscow.

Her words made him think of migratory birds, and how they simply knew that their home was meant to differ with the seasons. Artyom remembered his puphood, his mother's tales - one of which involved a young goose unfortunately separated from his family in a storm. They carried on their flight without him, but determination and an unusual, built-in homing device reunited him with relatives who welcomed him warmly. A happy ending.

He simply looked Aphrodite's way as she shared with him that she knew the direction, but could not tell him the exact place. Artyom figured this could be an example of truth to the saying: not all those who wander are lost.

"I hope you find what you are looking for," he said with warmth in his eyes, then glanced ahead to sweep the willow branches with his gaze. "We could make a place for you in Whitebark, if you wanted. At the very least until you find that place you belong."