Deepwood Weald a shadowy hand turns the page

“Zsuzsa—a lovely name,” he commented. Hopefully they would cross paths again, though it would not be a surprise if after all this he never saw her again. There were many faces that he could no longer recall that had once spent time with him and that too seemed to tie back into tradition, and back into what she had said. There was plenty that was simply thrown away and here he thought briefly of Arcturus, and wondered how he fared.

He wondered, but perhaps not quite enough to seek him out just yet.

“I suppose tradition is something we do uphold. Moonspear is largely familial in nature; the territory belonged to my wife’s mother and father before they passed, and we inherited it. A lot of work has gone into its upkeep,” he went on with idle conversation. “Incidentally, her father grew up on the coast… which I do hope you get to see for yourself. It may be a wild thing but its beauty does not disappoint.”