Cevin leans out over roughly-hewn guardrails. The pine needles above and around him rustle as wind passes out of the Golden Fields into his tree line. Yes, it was his. It had been weeks since anyone he knew had left to investigate the pillars of smoke. The smoke had since died down, but no one had returned.
Suddenly, he hears voices below. A young woman and a black fox are entering his forest. He can’t make out much, but is able to understand a snippet as they pass beneath.
“We have to keep moving, Antwohnette. The Reapers won’t leave loose ends. It’s a miracle we made it out of there alive.” The woman says something in reply, but Cevin can’t quite make it out.
They pass on and Cevin remains. Staring out across amber grass, he ponders following them.