All that the light touches

The den had lost so much warmth, and all the scent of herbs and familiar things was only upsetting him. It was maybe a bad time for their fathers sake, but Wylan requested permission to find his own den, and his father had reluctantly agreed. It was a bit of cheer amongst all the sadness to look for something of his own.

His eyes, almost like fate, landed on the treehouse that sat above their den. He trotted up the stairs, and surveyed the area. It was cleaned out from Bas and his family's departure - no longer would Hazel slip in for alcohol, or Bas for nightly treats. Another familiarity they were leaving behind. People grew, and life changed. But Wylan was only just starting to realise what that meant.


"Speech"