Rowan channeled his grief over permanently losing his sisters into the things he loved most. Taking care of Wren and working in his garden. It was nice to pretend that nothing else existed even though he knew it couldn't last.
After he'd lost control of his magic while arguing with Alaric, some of his flowers had died, but rather than grieve that, too, he dug them all out and grew new ones with Wren's help.
"What do you want to plant here?" Wren pushed a loose strand of Rowan's hair behind his ear with a dirt covered finger. "More strawberries so you can use them to make me some pies?"
"Just how many pies do you think you can eat, and why do you assume I have nothing better to do than bake them?" Rowan sat back on his heels and assessed their progress. He made a mental note to ask Loma if she knew how to make a pie. "We could plant more berries, but my baking probably leaves something to be desired."
