Ford was still reeling from the strange conversation with Seth. It had caught him entirely off guard. Anaisa told him he did well, but what did that mean?
What was the purpose?
He walked towards the horses, intending to help care for them as the group prepared for another day of climbing up the stair-stepped slopes of the white cliffs.
"Ford, did you drop some–" Anaisa's voice floated to him softly and then cut off abruptly. He turned to see her holding a small object, staring at it with an unreadable expression.
"This isn't yours–is it?" She asked with horror creeping into her voice.
Ford moved closer, Seth beside him in obvious curiosity. Anaisa held his mother's ring as if it was diseased. As if she were disgusted by it.
He snatched it from her hand, wounded.
