Lost Creek Hollow Is a new philosophy

Walking in to the forest was like entering an empty hall -- if her pawsteps could echo, they certainly would, but on the soft floor of the forest there was no such luck. The world was damp from the thaw and recent rain and snow. If anything, there was some squishing, but no satisfying tap or click. It wasn't particularly theatrical.

It was also a realm of memories. She hadn't been back through the forest since they had left months ago. It was a closed chapter, and yet here she was wandering again, not for memories, not for hope, but just because it was there. It was more like wandering through a skeleton. They were dead times. She raised her head, sniffing the air, to see if anyone resided now where she once had, where she had given birth to her children, where there had been good and bad times. But what was now? What was the future? Still vague.