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Larry’s funeral had been last week, and Owain was still wearing black. He had loved him as a brother, and was mourning him as one now.

Owain stood in silence for a moment. He had looked at Ohlendian cultures in school, everyone had, but he had never seen one of their armbands, the modern equivalent to the armour they used to wear, some still did, refusing to show their faces. After looking from the treetop for some time, Ruth swung down, rolling on impact with the ground. “Ruth?” Owain exclaimed, kneeling to try and help her up, but she sprang to her feet with ease, “Are you okay?” Ruth gave him a searing l

The doorbell ringing was a surprise for all of the family, except for Owain. Who didn’t hear it. It was his Dad who answered the ringing speaker, watching the screen as it showed the girl ringing the apartment number, tan with dark hair, a fringe, and grey eyes, dressed like she’d been hired to play a vagrant in a musical, though maybe that was just the flatcap, a colourful metal band around her right arm. Mr. McCrawley knew she looked somewhat familiar, but not enough to be