Wapun Meadow Watching as I comb through the pieces on the beach

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How many seasons had he been away? He couldn't say for sure. Days, weeks, months -- they blurred together into one continuous whole. He'd left his brother along the way. He'd left this place entirely, but not for I'll will. Everett healed by settling down. Evander? Not so much. And Everett had understood.

He wondered how his brother was doing. 

This wonder was, in part, what brought him back here. Though he'd lost track of the seasons since he'd been gone from here, he would never forget the moons thar had passed since they'd finally left the Gilded Sea. Nearly twelve full rotations. A year of their lives -- perhaps the hardest, yet best one yet.

Though he set out to find his brother again, imagine his surprise when the sunlight caught a the strands of flyaway gold bobbing in the meadow he set across. Drawing up pictures of his siblings and the Sea. Knowing full well more of them than Everett lived here now.

Remembering, in fact, that Ophelia had lived in place near here.

Remembering, too, her movements in the dances they shared, and feeling that stir of familiarity here in her frolic, though he was yet too far to see her face.

Ah, well, easily amended! The worst see could do was run from him again.

He lent his voice to the air in an inviting howl, with a little hop to the left and right, asking to join whatever dance this maybe-Ophelia had got going on.