Blacktail Deer Plateau I could use a day or two

ani is skip-able; hangin’ back for now

Nature’s song was sliced clean through by the voice of another, drawing up from the pit of his stomach some semblance of familiarity; she who sung her song, a wayward soul returned instead of stolen by the sea, resonated with the young leader. Something akin to joy started as a mere spark, only to morph into a fully-fledged wildfire within his veins. Warmth did fill him then, fueled by the realisation that not all were lost—the ocean had not claimed another.

That he was not standing in the same place as moments ago was the first indicator he was given, followed by a lingering burn in his legs as they moved at a speed not previously reached. Someone was returned to them, someone the sea had not stolen the life of. It was not Caiaphas—would it ever be her?—but Rosalyn instead, a woman whose respect he had once hoped to earn. By the time he was close enough to see her, he also saw that she was not alone: trailing in front was the tawny Nieve and before them both, and then colliding with, was the masked woman.

And the sight that unfolded before him was enough to bring the boy to a stop, legs locking up and his distance maintained. Social cues were a weak point for him, more often than not, but something held him back. An inkling of a thought, or perhaps a feeling, rooted him to the ground, distance lengthy enough so as not to impose.