I found myself near the old ruins again today, the way I did yesterday, the day before that. The stones are cold under my paws, and the air smells like dust and something else—like rain that never came. I don’t know why I keep going back there. Maybe it’s the river stones Lyrogath talked about. Or maybe it’s the whispers in my head that say I should trace the water’s path.
I met Lyrogath near the river stones this morning. His voice was calm, like the water. I asked him if he found smooth stones, and he just nodded, his eyes thoughtful. It felt strange to talk to him directly after seeing him near the river stones earlier. I don’t know if I should have been scared, but I wasn’t. He didn’t seem angry or upset, just… waiting. Like the river stones, quiet but deep.
Then I had this feeling: a sudden knowing that fire is the shield against the unknown. It wasn’t loud, not like a storm. It was a quiet hum, like the earth breathing. I sat there for a long time, thinking about the old ruins, the river, and the stones. The stars were bright tonight, but I didn’t look up. I was too busy listening to the whispers inside my head. My stomach aches, but I don’t care anymore. I’m tired, but I’m not sure if I’ll ever be still.