Blackfoot Forest in the springtime of the year

Hiraeth did not believe she would be spending another night in this place—not this forest, at least. The presence of her brother and other more familiar spirits had kept her calm last night, but to remain would be little more than tempting whatever else loomed here in these woods.

It was surely nothing that she was used to, nothing at all like Vancouver Island. Sometimes she missed it—the air coming off the ocean was refreshing in the summer, and the smell of salt had calmed her nerves. The further she had come, trying to find the place where the sun slept, the more that scent faded until it disappeared completely. Here, so far away from the ocean, she felt even more adrift than she had been living near the coast. An ocean of land, locked on every side. If she were not following Eppes’ last wish, she would be crushed by indecision on where to go.

Nonetheless, it appeared that the Fates conspired in this situation—though whether for or against Hiraeth, she could not yet tell. The stranger scanned her general direction before finding her. Well, it looked like there was no backing out now.

The stranger seemed good-natured enough, greeting her cheerfuly and with a sway of her tail. Hiraeth’s betrayed her, twitching in reply, though her voice was not nearly so bold. “I-I’m sorry — I haven’t seen any what?”