[o] Forging on

Noah

It creeps in like a thief in the night
Without a sign, without a warning

Noah moved carefully along the river’s jagged edge, the water’s rushing melody threading through the air. The river churned between its peculiar stone formations, twisting around and curling and rolling. The wind caught in the hollow spaces, sending forth a chorus of Flowerbirth’s nature. The Greatwood never ceased to amaze.

Noah’s boots left imprints in the loamy soil as he moved, eyes scanning and searching. Vi’s roses were supposed to bloom here, and he kept looking despite having no luck anywhere else. Noah scanned the slick banks, glacier yees bouncing around the places where rock met water in a tangled embrace to the tree line that tapered here and there. Life flourished in every crevice— but no roses.

But we are ready and prepared to fight
Raise up your swords, don't be afraid