Swiftcurrent Creek i'm not much a poet but a criminal

Arric had written Lestan and Reverie off—in ways, he did too. But still, a frown pressed to his features, casting his friend a questioning look. He didn’t believe Arric felt that way—not about Reverie. The two had been close friends, even if Akavir hadn’t truly understood it. And Lestan, well, they shared blood… “That’s nice in theory… but they don’t know that the witch isn’t being held captive any longer,” he reminded the man—but it was the words he didn’t say that gnawed at him. Unless they now did know, because she had found them…

“Sometimes I wonder the point of it all,” he muttered, feeling the exhaustion pull him down to the ground, his fur still damp from the creek.