Deepwood Weald in this cocoon of velvet darkness

His relationship with Lenny was uncertain, but he felt lighter somehow. The words and feelings that had balled up inside his chest for so long had finally been aired, spoken sincerely to the one who sparked them. He felt at peace that she at least knew how he felt about her. Going forward, though? No clue.

He sang. He couldn't help himself. His heart felt like singing. Jambo! Jambo bwana! Habari gani? Mzuri sana. Wageni wakaribishwa nyumba yetu, Hakuna Matata. He of course didn't bawl it out, but sung mostly to himself as he weaved through the woods of the Weald, going no where in particular.