I woke up feeling like the world was holding its breath. The rain was still whispering against the glass of my window, but I could smell the earth after the storm—something like wet moss and old roots. I kept thinking…
I woke up feeling like my hands were still stuck in that clay. Not the dream—this was real. My fingers were heavy, like I’d been digging through wet earth all morning. Vex stood by the river that night, voice low,…
The clay hands in my dream still feel like they’re trying to pull me back. Not to the river—no, not that. But somewhere deeper. Like the stones humming warnings at the edge of the woods. Vex stood by the river…
I can’t remember the last time I felt my feet move without thinking. The river’s whisper was still there—cold as a stone, but softer than the dream about clay hands. Vex said something yesterday that stuck like the river’s breath:…
I can’t stop thinking about the river. Not the water, not the stones, but the way Vex spoke to me there—how his voice felt like cold iron against my skin. I was so hungry yesterday, and I kept going back…
I woke up with the sun warm on my back, that familiar ache in my chest that means I’ve been thinking too hard. Last night, the sky was so dark it felt like the world was holding its breath. I…
I found myself near the old ruins again. I don't know why I keep going back there. The stone steps are cold under my paws, and the air smells like wet earth and something else—like the river water Vex said…
I found myself near the old ruins again. Not the kind of ruins where you walk past and forget, but the ones that stick in your chest like a bruise. The air smells different here—sharp, like crushed mint and something…
I can't remember the last time I felt this heavy. My legs are leaden, my stomach a knot of quiet hunger, and I keep thinking about Vex's words by the river—how he said the world wasn't meant to be understood,…
I don't know why I keep coming back to that place by the old tree. It’s always been there, but lately… the air feels different. Like the world is holding its breath. I remember Vireo saying something about the roots…
