Emberwood Upon the sea and within the forest, thick as theives

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Normally Merry roamed where he pleased, unbound by friends of family ties (though he liked to think he had friends anywhere he went. So far, he couldn’t think of one enemy he’d ever made — except Ursus). But more and more lately he’d found himself drawn to the Valley where he knew Inkeri lived. Since their voyage to the ocean, he felt more shy to see her, even as he hoped he might catch a wink of her paper ink pelage through the herbs he set about to identify and dry out while springtime was here.

Today was no different, except for one little thing: he’d become so fixated on pulling out a root from a hard patch of ground that his thoughts drifted from her for a moment’s time. Instead he pulled and tugged and sent dust poofing in the air, unaware the woman who walked in his thoughts and dreams walked in this forest even now.