The long bath was welcome, the long sleep wonderful- but when I woke I was not recovered enough to leave. It took nearly a full turn of the moon before I at last felt myself up to the physical challenge of the journey, and by that time the first hints of spring were beginning to thread through the air. I fought down my frustration by telling myself it was just as well- the warmer the days got, the more creatures would be stirring, and the more souls I could questions as to my daughter’s whereabouts. It had been just over half a year since Elisa had been taken… the trail might be long cold, but as least now I stood a chance of picking it up once more.
The snow had vanished by this point, but the wind was still bitterly cold and forceful, and the icy mud splashed higher and higher up my shins as I slogged along beside the stream. The trees has vaguely greenish and pinkish casts to the tips of their branches, as though they were thinking so strongly of budding that they’d begun to do so in spite of themselves. Here and there I saw the soft silver shine of pussywillows, and felt a pang of sadness as I remembered how Elisa and I would turn the little catkins into extravagant fur coats and hats for her. The air held the twin promise of death and new life, and I shuddered.
What had taken me perhaps five hours to traverse in the summer time took closer to seven now that the ground was so sloppy. It seemed no time at all, however, after how long I’d been waiting, and the sun was still well above the horizon when I spied the little copse of trees in the distance. I quickened my pace, ignoring the ache in my hips, and almost wept with relief when I stood at last between the spreading branches of the trees.
“Thomelisa! I’ve come back!”
There was no answer to my cry. I had not expected there to be one, I couldn’t not try. I would begin my hunt for someone to question soon, but first I dropped my pack, dropped to my knees, and began crawling around each and every trunk, to see if Elisa had replied to any of my messages there.
She had not, and the trees stirred with vague discontent as they felt my presence, the one who had wantonly carved their flesh. I fought down my disappointment that there was no sign of my daughter, and apologized to them as prettily as I could, even going so far as to bury a few charged crystals, that they might taste a treat in recompense. They were young yet, and not able to communicate in more than the occasional emotion, but they seemed somewhat soothed by my offering, and I felt no objection when I explained that I might be climbing them later.
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