Theea
He is right, the goods back here all seemed to be of the mud-dwelling variety. And they can be washed. And it's not like roots can be bruised.
”’Character building’,” I scoff with a good-natured smile. ”Sounds like something right out of my dad’s mouth.” A particularly hard bump hurts my tailbone a little, and I wince, but still, this ride is worlds better than the walk. ”But I look forward to seeing your work. More than happy to help carry some supplies when you need, as long as I’m in the Greatwood.”
Thinking of my dad again, of what mom must be trying to do, my chest aches and I glance down at my hands. ”I know it's… possible. But it’s been three years.” I smile a tight smile, and I shrug. ”Sometimes I wish she could let him go.” She might be with me if she could, traveling to apologize to her family. ”I’ve actually never been to a Festival of Lights. At least, not one I can remember. I was very little the last time, and from what I understand, it didn’t go well.”
I give up on my hood, not just a sopping mess on my head, and I shove it back. My dark hair is already wet, and it almost feels nice just to let the air hit it instead of the wet blanket that was my jacket. ”What are they like? The festivals.” I’ve heard, but it seems to be different for every person I ask.
”’Character building’,” I scoff with a good-natured smile. ”Sounds like something right out of my dad’s mouth.” A particularly hard bump hurts my tailbone a little, and I wince, but still, this ride is worlds better than the walk. ”But I look forward to seeing your work. More than happy to help carry some supplies when you need, as long as I’m in the Greatwood.”
Thinking of my dad again, of what mom must be trying to do, my chest aches and I glance down at my hands. ”I know it's… possible. But it’s been three years.” I smile a tight smile, and I shrug. ”Sometimes I wish she could let him go.” She might be with me if she could, traveling to apologize to her family. ”I’ve actually never been to a Festival of Lights. At least, not one I can remember. I was very little the last time, and from what I understand, it didn’t go well.”
I give up on my hood, not just a sopping mess on my head, and I shove it back. My dark hair is already wet, and it almost feels nice just to let the air hit it instead of the wet blanket that was my jacket. ”What are they like? The festivals.” I’ve heard, but it seems to be different for every person I ask.
welcome to the world of pretend
where we pretend we don't feel pain
where we pretend we don't feel pain
