Blackfeather Woods Someday your bird is going to fly.

As he investigated the wound he noticed the vivid shade of red against the backdrop of his pale limb and couldn't help but think, 'Pretty, poppy red,' and then his mind drifted to thoughts of those addictive plants; he wondered if any persisted despite the winter season, or if they'd become overgrown since the abandonment of the forest. His thoughts were paused when he heard something moving in the darkness beside him — and then emerged Maegi, sharing her affection. Titmouse nuzzled against her plush coat with his snout in return but she was soon distracted by the scent of his injury.

He lifted his wrist in to view, and then returned it to the dirt. It wasn't a bad cut or anything, a non-issue. He continued to ignore it as he drifted by her, and soon Titmouse was investigating the overgrown path again. It seemed so different now, seeing this place that had once filled his mind with nightmares - then to think of it as home - and now, it stood here hollow, gutted of all that made it mighty. A part of him felt an unmistakable reverence for the dark woods.