Blackfeather Woods the war at home

The forest was too quiet, but maybe that was because of the change in the season. He reasoned that, yes, it was the light dusting of snow that suffocated all the sound from betwixt the trees. It was the absence of the birds - the crows, ravens, and whatever little Blue was - that brought a preternatural quiet upon them. It helped that Titmouse was high out of his mind.

Yeah, the poppies really numbed a lot of things; the sounds of the forest, the memories that still flit through his mind since his (what would you even call it?) awakening, the pain in his face from where Maegi's teeth had -- had -- h --

Maegi. He blurted as he woke from a deep state of - not quite sleep, not quite anything else - in Wolfskull Cave. The boy had been frequently visiting this place of late, bearing witness to the gradual evaporation of Fire's scent from the catacombs. It was gone now. All traces of the Redhawk were gone, of Tegan's interference too, and Redshank — it was all gone. He was alone and he was numb and it was exactly how it should be.

But that was his depression talking; how could anyone go through all of this, every bit of his life and his splitting self, and not end up in pieces?