Arrow Lake we are the ones who will never be broken

The melting of winter was certainly a time to look forward to—the silence that seemed to blanket the lands with each snowfall began to lift as the birds returned home from the winter, the frogs reproducing and their gentle chirps in the night of their babies.

She couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that escaped her at his admission of trying to avoid eating the baby bunnies—they were too cute? “I never tagged you as a big softie,” she murmured, another lilting tease to her tone before she rolled the gathered fennel over to a large leaf she would wrap over it, giving her the ability to carry her newfound goods back to Epoch.

“I like the sounds of that,” she decided, casting him a sideways glance. “The hopeful part.”