Swiftcurrent Creek You're making me insane

He snorted as the man backed away from a bit of snow and ice—Akavir made no move to correct him that he had been digging around the garden and ground for Eshe—if the man thought he had just lobbed the version of a winter spitball at him, all the better.

“Can’t kiss you anymore, bro—Eshe would be jealous,” he confided in faux seriousness, instead.

At the sigh from his friend, Akavir settled to sit—his own emotions welling in his chest as he considered Arric. Silvertongue and Wren were mentioned—neither who he was keen to discuss, and perhaps that was part of the problem. Akavir hadn’t exactly been forthcoming about what had occurred—only that Silvertongue had pushed him away.

Wren he had never understood—believing only that she had fled because her self depreciation left no room for anything else—and her heart was broken at the potential of Silvertongue’s demise.

“Who else feels we ignore them?” It wasn’t spoken a demand—simply curious. He couldn’t fix this without knowing—and granted, there were only a handful of adults amongst them now. “I got…. Sick, Arric.” He paused, his brows furrowing as he considered the delusions—the fever—the time that felt missing inbetween the weeks he had suffered. “I got really sick.” But he felt his friend knew that. There had to be more to this.