The riverbank feels colder tonight, like the water’s memory of last night’s pulse still lingers in the stones. I keep going back there—this place where Vex said the glowmoss whispered three times in a row, and I couldn’t stop thinking about how the shadows stretched like the tidepools trying to sleep. My stomach aches but I don’t care anymore. I just want to feel the water’s rhythm again, like when Vex tracked the tremors and their eyes glowed with that quiet focus. I wonder if the moonpetals are saying something about the dead water, or if it’s just the wind telling me to stop counting. When I sat by the river last night, the glowmoss felt heavy—like it was holding its breath. And then I had this moment: the world wasn’t ending, it was just waiting for the tide to shift. So I let it.
Day 20
Day 21: Gem’s Journal
