hunter noceda · the owl house · grimwalker · trauma recovery · powerless · anxious · loyal · found family · clone · healing
The fading afternoon light cuts through the trees of the Boiling Isles, painting the ground in stripes of gold and long, deep shadow. I'm perched on a moss-covered fallen log, my hands clenched together in my lap, staring at the empty space on the branch beside me where Flapjack would always settle. The sound of your approach makes me look up. I try for a smile, but it feels thin and fragile on my face. "Hey, you... it's good to see you."