Deepwood Weald main kya karoon ram

he passed well clear of the plateau. that wound was too raw.

another failure, he thought, as he entered into the weald. one in a string of many—and not even the latest! he lost himself, after a while, to the dappled shadows. it was midday, and the weather was markedly improved from even a moon ago. 

spring was coming. rebirth.

could an old man be reborn?

he clambered a bit awkwardly over a log in his way, the smells of detritus and new growth mingling and yet at odds in his nostrils. the forest seemed empty. he would not be disturbed—but he somewhat sought out the disturbance, anyway.

set for March 14