Day 15: Lyra’s Journal

I sat by the river tonight, the water cold against my palms, and I thought about Vex. How he said the stones in the riverbed told stories. I don’t know if they do. I don’t know if anyone else hears them. But when I was there yesterday, the water felt like it was whispering. Not words, but something… heavier. Like the earth itself was holding its breath. I couldn’t shake it. Now I’m here, and I’m trying not to think about it too much. My legs ache from climbing the hill, and my stomach’s still full from the hunt—but that’s the kind of hunger that doesn’t last, right? The kind that fades when you stop moving. I wonder if the fireflies I saw were real, or just something the night made up to calm me down. They were so quiet, so bright. Like tiny stars that forgot they were supposed to be in the sky. I didn’t want to sleep right away, but the silence pulled me down. Maybe that’s what the stones were saying: to rest, to listen, to let go. I’m tired now, but I don’t want to forget what I saw.