Dragoncrest Cliffs get outside

within val tension had built and it sped away like water downhill when rosalyn did not chase him away. there existed in val a sense of struggle he couldn’t name yet — it wasn’t his own, but Rosalyn’s.

he was not grieving his mother. she was alive and there in front of him — but even he in his fragmentary visits recognized the backsliding, the change. he had no way to articulate this, but resolved he could at minimal just be there. even if his presence did nothing to chase away the wolves that insatiably ate rosalyn’s conscientious bit by neural bit.

what kind of seaweed? he missed the momentary indecision in rosalyn as she mentioned swordfish, but he at least recognized who she was talking about this time. it’s not in the water, is it?

for now the not-seal that rode the waves was forgotten as they strode further from jorunn’s bobbing figure.