Sleepy Fox Hollow Last long enough to go extinct,

Anselm as always was oblivious and for once a quaking anger grew in Etienne, but not at the cruel boy. No it was within himself. Hating and loathing warring in equal measure. Damaged. He was damaged.

There was nothing he could give that Anselm would allow. And he couldn't make him nice and good and kind. But he knew he'd probably waste his last breath trying and it was infuriating.

Sea longed to be on land, but they broke each other trying to touch did they not. The sea taking pieces of the sands. The sands pulling the ocean into its craggy places. But still they danced and longed.

Eti followed nose sniffing. He turned over plants looking for tracks. Ears forward. Golden gaze on the ground. Knowing if he looked forward. If he traced the contours of hard angles and gentle plains he'd be lost again.