Whispers of the Wild Heart

Previously

…As they were herded back towards the den, the whispers of the forest seemed to fade, replaced by the heavy silence of their parents’ displeasure. Lyra cast one last glance back at the clearing, at the patch of clover where Zephyr had found his moment of pure joy. The butterfly was gone, a memory of what could be, a fleeting reminder of a world beyond the confines of their fear. The path back to the den felt longer, heavier, each step a reminder of their captivity. The sickness, Lyra knew, was not just in their bodies, but in the very air they breathed, a sickness of the spirit that clung to them like the damp earth of their home.