Firefly Ravine when i was alone, you promised the stone from your heart

there was a meteor shower above that went wholly unnoticed. it drizzled, still, and the sky was clouded over. 

but there were lights in the ravine. 

why was he still here? cam pondered this question as he stared at the brush, watching the fireflies flicker. light, then nothing; light, but now elsewhere. little lanterns, too beautiful even for a world full of wonder. 

he ought to head to neverwinter forest. lingering here was doing nothing but weigh him down. he'd come to this place after mummy had died, and he could still hear (perhaps), above the din of frogs and crickets, the echoes of his grief. 

well. maybe it was catharsis, some sick desire to wallow in his past. ziggy had been incredulous about his wanting to return south —

there's nothing down there for us!

but there was mal. maybe ibis and okeanos somewhere, too. mummy's bones, and the willows of his birth. 

and this place, the sanctum of fireflies. cam sat beside the stream, caught in the midnight mist, watching them move. so graceful, so purposeful in their every action. 

maybe he'd come back looking for purpose, too. god knew he hadn't found it yet.