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The leaves CRUNCHed under Voyage’s boots as they tried to keep up with their taller party members. Brie the halfling was cheating by hitching a ride on Seraphina the half-orc. Voyage also had to keep looking at their feet so they didn’t trip on a gnarled root, a mossy rock or worse yet, into a ring of mushrooms. Voyage knew the dangers of stepping into one too well. It had been in another forest, where the trees weren’t quite as tall but equally as gnarled. Sunlight had streamed through the leaves there too, dawn light rather than midday sun, but Voyage hadn’t been walking, they - no, he then - had been carried by loving, desperate arms, trembling and watching over dada’s shoulder for fire and lightning lighting up the sky, brighter than the sunrise, shooting through the bloodred sunrise. He hadn’t expected the JOLT of dada tripping so he SHRIIIIIEEEKED as they fell, fell into HELL and mama was there too but then she was r i p p e d away it was too dark he couldn’t see, they couldn’t see, he and his dada couldn’t see and then he couldn’t see his dada DADA DADA WHERE ARE YOUUU and then he was walking running stumbling
Voyage stumbled on a small root and squeaked. The rest of the party looked back at them and Voyage flushed.
“I’m fine,” they called, resting a hand on the rough bark of the tree they tripped over.
Were they?
Voyage hurriedly hopped to the rest of the party. Once they caught up, they all started walking again. This time, Voyage tried not to get caught in memories as dark and twisted as the feyd- tried not to get caught in memories. They looked up every so often to see birds of all colours and sizes flitting through the treetops, small mammals slinking along branches or a particularly vibrant flower. One blooming vine of yellow-orange flowers reminded Voyage of some flower crowns that they had woven with their boyfriend. That memory was a reminder that most memories made in the Feywild were happy ones.
Memories!
Darn it, Voyage needed to FOCUS.
Voyage stumbled on a small root and squeaked. The rest of the party looked back at them and Voyage flushed.
“I’m fine,” they called, resting a hand on the rough bark of the tree they tripped over.
Were they?
Voyage hurriedly hopped to the rest of the party. Once they caught up, they all started walking again. This time, Voyage tried not to get caught in memories as dark and twisted as the feyd- tried not to get caught in memories. They looked up every so often to see birds of all colours and sizes flitting through the treetops, small mammals slinking along branches or a particularly vibrant flower. One blooming vine of yellow-orange flowers reminded Voyage of some flower crowns that they had woven with their boyfriend. That memory was a reminder that most memories made in the Feywild were happy ones.
Memories!
Darn it, Voyage needed to FOCUS.