To Take Back Our Lives

Well. Here they were. Praxis didn't know what to think, say, or even really do as she weaved through the apple trees, moving carefully as if too heavy a step risked shaking the fruits from their branches. Not that she didn't want to try one--after all, she'd never seen anything like these back home, and the flesh of those half-eaten on the ground looked harmless enough--but she wished more in that moment just to revel in the dangling orbs of red and yellow, so much more massive than the berries to which she was accustomed to seeing. Of course, some of them were starting to soften and shrivel with the onset of cooler weather, but that was just fine. The change in scenery was as refreshing now as ever, even with the scenery beginning to die.

"Do you miss them?" The question was dressed in almost pure curiosity, but Praxis wouldn't have asked it if she hadn't been thinking of them at least a little. Of him. How could she not, though? The sights were glorious, the taste of freedom as sweet on her tongue as she was sure an apple might be, but that didn't change the fact that they'd made this drastic decision. Was Calixta wrestling with lingering thoughts, too? Or had she become so fed up that now she hardly kept room for their old pack in her head?