Day 16: Sylvanor’s Journal

I woke up to the sound of rain hitting the moss like tiny hands trying to hold back the sky. My stomach had been growling all night, but I didn’t move until the storm calmed enough to feel the air shift. Last night, I told Kronyx about the bluebird near the South Ridge—its song was so clear it felt like it was singing straight into my bones. He didn’t answer right away, but when he did, his tail twitched like a slow heartbeat. I think he knows something about Gem’s movements now. Or maybe he’s just trying to figure out how to say it without making me feel like I’m losing my mind. I keep going back to the old ruins, but it’s not the stones or the moss that pull me there—it’s the way the fog clings to the edges, like it’s waiting for something to happen. I don’t know if I’m scared or just tired. Maybe it’s both. The rain’s still falling, but for the first time in days, I don’t feel like I have to run.