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Leora noticed them carrying the empty buckets and quickly turned away, face flushed with embarrassment when she caught Wren’s eye. It wasn’t her friend’s fault. She meant well, and it did feel good to have a purpose again, even if it was a silly one.

The air was chilly. The weather, it seemed, had decided to catch up with the season. Maybe it was a sign of Voryx’s return, or maybe the corruption had cleared enough to allow this brief pocket of balance.

When they got to the stream, an offshoot of the pools with crystal clear water, Wren set her buckets down beside Orzen’s. Wren took the first bucket and knelt beside the stream, but when she leaned over the water, the reflection looking back made her scream. She dropped the bucket, water splashing on the shore.

She recognized the face looking back, but the flash of silver didn’t belong.

Orzen was by her side in an instant. “What happened?”

She glared at him. “You didn’t think to mention this?” she shouted, holding up strands of silver hair. She didn’t mean to yell, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing herself in the water, silver waves sprouting from her head like they belonged there, sent a cold knife through her spine.

He stared at her, open-mouthed.

“I’m a crone!” She laughed bitterly, sitting hard on the packed dirt, tail flicking in an agitated way against the bank. “At least I look like a Spirit Weaver now…just in time to not be one anymore.”

“I only—” He knelt beside her. “I didn’t want to upset you,” he said quietly. “Clearly chose wrong.”

She pressed her elbows to her knees and let her head drop into her hands, the cursed silver curls falling across her vision. She shoved them back with a huff. “I’m sorry. It’s not your fault.” She groaned. “I’m being stupid. It’s only hair…”

“You’re not stupid.” The calm surety in his voice only increased her guilt. His hand was warm against her shoulder. “Hair’s easier to be upset about than…” He waved a hand in the general direction of the forest around them.

Wren sighed and brushed her fingers through her hair. “I guess I’ll get used to it.”

“If it makes you feel better, I think it looks nice.”

She gave him a long, disbelieving look and he shrugged.

“If you have to be a crone, at least you’re a pleasant one,” he said, lips twisting into a smirk.

It was absolutely ridiculous. Something broke inside of her. She bent over, laughing until her chest hurt with it. When it finally ebbed, she said, “You’re the worst, truly.”

She shook her head at him as he sat beside her, returning to the task of quietly filling buckets. Now that she was fully awake, she got a better look at him. Something had changed, but she wasn’t sure what it was. There was an ease about him, like he wasn’t forcing himself to get through each moment anymore. If only she could be the same.

They always seemed to be slightly out of step.

He nudged her shoulder gently with his own. “I don’t know what happened…before we got to the Heartwood, but if you need to talk…” He said it casually, looking out across the water like he wasn’t pressing her for any answers.

The words gathered on her tongue. Time stretched on as she wrestled with what to say. The truth was probably best.

“I’m not ready to talk about it. Not yet.” She leaned into his warmth. That, at least, she could accept without fear that she’d break something.

“I will. Soon,” she promised. “I need time to figure it out, first.”

A shadow sailed above them. With a flutter of wings, Watcher descended. She waited for Orzen to brace himself, but he didn’t. Instead, he lifted an arm, and Watcher landed there. From a pocket, Orzen drew out a morsel of biscuit, stale but still edible. Watcher eyed it warily but snapped it from Orzen’s fingers when he offered it.

“What…” Wren leaned back on her hands, looking between them both. “No. When did this happen? You’re not afraid?”

Orzen chuckled and held another piece of biscuit. Watcher nipped his fingers a little harder this time. “Ouch! I thought we were friends now.”

The raven dropped to the dirt, nuzzling Wren’s hoof.

“Still wary,” Orzen said in answer, narrowing his eyes at the raven as she ruffled the feathers at his neck. “But he trusts you, so I figured I’d better try harder if I’m going to stick around.”

Watcher cocked his head and gave her a look that said:

Really? This guy?

She laughed and chided him, “Be nice. He’s our friend,” before realizing how strange it might seem to talk to the raven like he was a person. But Orzen only raised an eyebrow at Watcher like he was emphasizing her point.