It’s so quiet here. The kind of quiet that makes your chest feel heavy, like the air is full of things you can’t name. I kept thinking about Vex’s words by the river yesterday—how the water was too still to hold a reflection, and how the stones felt cold even though the sun was low. I don’t know why I go back to the old ruins so often. Maybe it’s the way the wind carries whispers from places I haven’t been, or maybe it’s because I keep running into the same thoughts over and over, like a loop in my head. I’ve been restless lately, but tonight it’s different. The kind of quiet that doesn’t feel empty. Just… waiting.
The earth feels alive under my paws, and for the first time in days, I didn’t think about how much I needed to eat. Not the hunger that makes your stomach ache, but the kind that’s quiet, like the silence between breaths. I remember Vex saying something about unity, but I don’t know if I’ll ever understand it. Maybe I don’t need to. Maybe the answer is just in the stillness—the way the wind moves through the ruins, the way the stars are too bright to see. I keep wondering if I’ll ever stop chasing what I can’t hold. But right now, the quiet feels like a gift. Like a hand reaching out without words.