Stone Circle time doesn’t care about anyone or anything, oh

it was a question she hadn't expected from her quietest sister. her voice was as soft as the autumn leaves that rustled overhead, but dahlia was attuned to her wavelength by now. her ears swiveled first, followed by her face, as she looked up at petal.

i... she let her eyes fall again and contemplated into the water.

the last time she had been happy was when she was the sole object of her mother's love, dancing side by side in the gilded valley. all that had come to pass in the following months made it feel like a lifetime ago. it might as well have been. just shy of eight months old, almost half of her life was eclipsed by her mother's absence in one way or another. even before she had given her mind to the fire, she had been looking for fox — not once, but twice. and although dahlia had been wounded by it she would never hold it against her sisters.

i'm not unhappy she says, i think i'll feel better once we've settled here for a bit. do you like it here, petal?