whatever comes, let it come
what stays, let it stay
Loren snarled. ”I can see that.” As Maea darted ahead, he dismissed his wolf. He just managed to get through the opening before it closed fully, though a vine ripped across his legs, the thorn drawing blood. Ignoring the pain, he shrugged off his pack and bit down on it. Then he leapt into the air and shifted into a goose. Crashing through the canopy of hedges (losing both feathers and skin in the process), he took a quick scan of the Labyrinth. Then he crashed back through to the path below.
Shifting back, he stumbled for a few steps on the landing, though he caught himself before he fell. Spitting out the sack, he caught it in one hand. ”Take the next right, then go straight for a while.” His breath came out in a pant, and his body was covered in cuts both large and small. They oozed blood, leaving crimson droplets in his wake.
what goes, let go
LOREN
