Broken Antler Fen i am a fallen angel

at the sound of approaching footfalls, heavy and telltale of the fact that an adult was hot on his heels, roswell stopped to peer over his shoulder. for a moment, his heart sunk in his chest; plunging deep that it was maia and not ibis trailing him. but of course, ibis was gone but roswell, still too young to grasp that death was concrete and that fairytales did not exist still held on blossoming hope that she would simply appear one day ...

as quickly as death had taken her.

it was only after that disappointment fades that worry begins to nag at the back of his mind as he considers that venturing out on his own might give rise to chiding.

but he couldn't help himself!

the outside world was so beautiful and magical and he wanted to capture it for himself. to be both apart and master of it.

however, maia did not chide him and slowly the tension in his shoulders melts and his tail beats out a small, hopeful rhythm against the closest bush; sending leaves rattling together and falling to the earthen floor.

trolls? immediately, whatever worry roswell'd had was chased away at maia's question. whad um troll looks like? roswell asks with hushed awe, transitioning gaze flicking this way and that as if anticipating something to jump out at him ...even without knowing what exactly he was looking for.