Hushed Willows Beautiful Sunrise Mother May I

Shadows stole the young alchemist’s thoughts, despite the light ever growing between the slumping boughs.

What would he do if he could not find his family? What would he do if he could not find his way back to the Weald?

He had never thought of what came of children who lost their parents before they themselves came of age. He had never heard of anyone who had. And he did not know if anyone else really cared what happened to him, if anyone else had even known of his family in the Weald, apart from, well, his family. Oì Kryfoì, the hidden ones. Perhaps too well.

But perhaps one might care — or some — for in his self pity he remembered Moonglow, and this, perhaps, because of the one seemed an apparition before him.

His heart somersaulted, and his composure broke at the sight of his autumnal friend. He seemed smaller now, but Melaneus would never forget a friend’s face.

Rodyn.

What was he doing out here? Unless… unless the Weald was not far after all! A silence lapsed — one that his friend seemed to allow. And then, am I at Moonglow? he asked in a voice that broke from misuse and youth. He had never seen these forests before, but perhaps they were on a side of the packland he had simply never explored.

Sorry for falling off the face of the earth! I’d love to continue this, if you’re still down? <3