Dawnlark Plains I take my shirt off because the bad feelings make me feel sweaty

Timberlake had few good memories of the plains. He'd been too young for most of his tenure here, and the events that had driven Morningside into the maplewood were. . .traumatic, to say the least. He stepped upon the open ground and smelled cloying smoke, felt the tickle of flames at his ankles—

He shivered, but moved forward. Perhaps he could find his father's bones, here.

There was an uncharacteristic mixture of anger and sadness as the yearling strolled slowly across the plains, eyes scanning the barren hillocks, the sparse, snow-covered vegetation. Things seemed to have healed—or, at least, they were not blackened by fire anymore. They had come back to life. Why hadn't Shale?

It wasn't fair.

To come here was to face his fears, and Timberlake fully intended to leave the past behind. The sight of his greatest nightmare would become no more than another piece of scenery; he would make it so.

I love you, Daddy, he whispered, like a child, and swallowed the lump in his throat. The Sameth carried on.