Kintla Flatlands sang myself to sleep last night

It was only when he drew near enough to smell her that he became firmly rooted in reality. A part of him that had been wondering if he'd conjured her into being with his mind suddenly recognized providence. A subtle push from his maker, telling him to get over himself. If being without family stood in the way of his character growth, then here, said the maker, enjoy your family. As if this maker had personally reached out to Minnow's maker over discord with a :waggle-pom: emoji and a link to his profile.

But whatever behind-the-scenes work had been accomplished, it was none of his business. His job was to marvel at the sight of a face so beloved, a soul so very missed. Her stiff posture made his heart ache with nostalgia — she'd always been tougher than him, growing up. Had that continued into adulthood?

"Minnow," he said again, now close enough to converse. He didn't dare draw too close without knowing she recognized him. "It's me. It's Val."