The woods understood Rowan's desire to get home quickly, and they adjusted the trail so he was at the foot of his bridge before he could think too much about it. Wren hadn't said a single word on the slow walk, but Rowan could sense him seething as he followed behind. He no longer asked to make the trail wide enough for two. Rowan was fine with the silence.
Once in the garden, Rowan paused. He should tend to the souls of his Siblings before he rested. For some reason though, he felt like taking a breath to sing would split him in two.
His body was exhausted from the day's magic, and his heart was restless. He preferred not to feel things, at least not things unrelated to his flowers and the quiet peace of his garden, but the day with Wren had knocked him off balance.
