Northstar Vale grainbloom

Antigone’s dark eyes met his sister’s. He could see her looking to gauge his reaction to their mother’s telling of the seasons. The boy was not eager for the time that would stretch until they saw sunlight and felt the warmth of the earth in all hours of the day and night.

Zulema asked if the flowers would return. Antigone did not care much for these things. Flowers grew in the dirt and served no purpose beyond their luring of bees, or wafting fragrances. He might understand why his sister was concerned for them. They were pretty things. The types of things he was interested in served a purpose. If flowers could cure a cough, maybe his attention could be caught.

Nevertheless, Antigone looked to their mother expectantly.