Noctisardor Bypass gyonplei

Grandfather Tree. Anselm did not know his grandfather, so he liked the second name better. He could picture the grand sentinel himself, its threadbare leaves budding with fresh life on every limb.

He continued behind her, noting her ears faced forward now. For a time, they walked in silence again. Anselm sensed the strain too. He'd never been good with words, would never be good with words -- and here he was, needing them most.

A long exhale -- it was the first of many tells Anselm had that he was trying to compose something to say. He stopped walking, made to say something, shook his head and began walking again. He wanted them to be normal too -- but something in Anselm wasn't normal, and he suspected something in Heda wasn't either. They were two misfits, somehow twined together.

Finally the silence broke. Vhat vas Sequoia like?