If These Old Bones Could Talk...

Sota’s presence is a happy distraction and Fern is glad that he agrees to join her. They talk of the bones and the gray woman feels a deep sadness tug at her heart as she looks at the sun-bleached remnants of creatures’ past. For a moment, she thinks of her mother, the gentle healer who never harmed anyone, and how she lays dead in some place far from here. Fern had been unable to bury Meadow, her paws too small and the trauma too fresh. So, her mother had been left to the elements, her bones slowly disappearing into the earth like these long dead creatures.

The small male’s words pull Fern from her dark thoughts and she mentally shakes herself as he is able to find the beauty in the darkness. A smile pulls at her lips as she nods, stopping to lift a paw and point toward the castle that is their home as she says, “I love this ridge best because, when the sun peeks through the clouds, it lights up the castle a gentle glow. It… it helps me remember where I came from and what I have now.” Her paw settles back on the ground as she looks to Sota, a warm smile on her lips.

Tragedy may have made up the first year of her life but here, in that castle, she found friends, family, and love. A content sigh rolls past her lips as she looks to the castle and the plains that surround it, thinking of how happy she is to have found her home.


"Fern Lark"