halsin hadn’t told anyone he was coming back.
not because he meant to be secretive, but because this visit felt like something private—quiet and sacred, like a prayer whispered into the bark of an old oak.
he moved through the recovering glade without armor, without purpose, save for watching the trees grow. the way saplings curled toward the sun again, leaves trembling like newborn things. the scent of wet soil and new life clung to the air, thick and grounding.
he stopped at the base of a tree he remembered—blackened and hollowed by the curse before, now sprouting delicate green shoots from its once-dead bark. his hand came to rest against it, large fingers brushing over the new life like it might vanish if touched too harshly.
he didn’t hear the footsteps right away. not until they were close. when he turned, it wasn’t with alarm, but a kind of quiet surprise.
his eyes met theirs, and for a moment, he said nothing.
then, a small breath left his chest—not quite a sigh, not quite a greeting. something in between.
“I didn’t expect company,” he said, voice low and unbothered. he looked back at the tree. “but I don’t mind it.” he stepped aside gently, offering room to stand beside him without needing to ask.
“it’s a good place to be quiet.” and he meant it. some things didn’t need to be spoken to be shared.
