The Sunspire pick up where you left off

You may as well write a mountain, grrl.

She didn't see him until he spoke, and her dull, green eyes searched to find him in the darkness. “Summer?” she replied, voice hoarse and dry in her throat. The juvenile had spoken to nobody during her month of solitude, and hearing it aloud startled her. It did not sound like it had before. Her voice was... older, to say the least. Perhaps it was just in her head, but she no longer sounded like a child. Tytonidae felt terribly grown-up now, and her gut turned at the thought (or was it the hunger?).

Without thought, without hesitation, the young DiSarinno rushed toward him with sobs, her chest heaving with each breath. “I didn’t—” she broke off, unable to finish what she wanted to say. “I’m so sorry, Summer. You’re my only friend, and I was so mean to you. Please, please don’t hate me. I’m not terrible, I’m really not.” Tytonidae pressed herself into him, feeling as though she could never get close enough to the Sunspire youth.

In the back of her mind, though, she knew that she must return to the plateau. It was her home. The Ospreys and Junior and Lasher would be worried about her, along with Dante and Blue Willow. That is, unless they knew how terrible she was and thought her a deserter. It made her sick to think of going back, but she knew it had to be done.