Rowan left Wren sweeping up the birdseed and decided to give the souls some real attention now that he wasn't distracted by his own desire. After singing to them again quietly for a few minutes, he was fairly certain at least two of them were never going to grow. They felt different now. Like they'd given up.
If this continued, releasing them might be the right thing to do, but he would be content for now if they didn't die. He closed his eyes and funneled a little extra energy into them, only faltering for a moment when he felt the familiar pull of a visitor at his bridge.
After finishing his song, Rowan stood and brushed the grass from his knees, then headed toward the house. He knew better than to not tell Wren where he was going.
Apparently he wasn't moving fast enough, because the tug of the visitor grew more persistent, taking root in the space at the back of his head and needling him excitedly every few seconds.
