Whitefish River cupid's demanding back his arrow

lost stars - adam levine

After a whole afternoon of snoozing under the shade of a tree, the silver Ollivander found the strenght to get out of the Plateu. This time he didn't head for the mountains, fearing that the heavy weight upon his heart might make him more prone to falling. As if gravity could smell the saltiness of his tears and decide to drag him down.

Instead he began to follow the river that separated the Plateu from the southern side of the Teekon Wilds. The sound of the water rushing beside him was somewhat comforting, he often turned his head to glance at the water, hoping to find fish around. The lack of sleep had been mended, now he had to fix his empty stomach.

He felt like one of the survivors from a plane wreck, picking his way along the border of the river in search of supplies to fix his shattered spirit. Seeing her walk away had sent him spiraling down from the sky, and he had been so busy staring at her fading figure he had forgotten to buckle up.