Rowan.
Neirin repeated his name in her mind a couple of times.
The wind blew.
Time ticked, and their conversation died down.
Neirin watched his back turn and continued heading south like his previous destination.
Just like how they met, they went in separate ways without any greetings and farewells.
Neirin turned her back; she was careful not to fall since her body was still weak.
And just like how she came, Neirin entered the tiny house.
There were only a few pieces of furniture inside. It was a small rundown house that sometimes was a shade and a small comfort to those who were traveling and those who were seeking.
It made Neirin a sense of nostalgia as she remembered her previous home. It was a small cabin, a small cabin that witness her life.
