Ocean's Breath Plateau john barleycorn was dead

permission to skip brook!

brook didn't pick up on it, and the fox gave no real answer. his shock turned into irritation, and he bared his teeth at the strangely-colored creature, needlessly frustrated at the other's nonchalance.

so—where? where did you see him? he asked, eyes glinting gold, burning into yeet. a brown and cream wolf? a young man, a yearling—right?

questions hailed down without thought; aditya glanced, a little sheepishly, at his daughter, who stood steadfast beside him. but if his son! was here, then he must seek him out. 

to. . .apologize? to explain? there was no explanation that would suffice, and no apology that wouldn't ring hollow.

he had said 'sorry' so many times that the word was cheap in his mouth.