Cessair sat on the bank of the stream, the only stationary object in a forest full of movement. What sunlight remained of the aging day filtered through the canopy of gently waving heart-shaped leaves above to dance like a kaleidoscope of many colors on the soft earth below. The creek at her paws rolled endlessly along, with a few scattered leaves floating on the current like memories, here and gone again in a moment. Closing her eyes, Cessair drank in the aromas floating by. While the water of the creek itself had no smell, it carried with it the ghost of a scent from every land through which it passed; the icy nothingness of snow from the mountains to the grounded, earthen smell of mosses from the darkest forest. Ever forward pressed the creek.
Lost again in the memories of her travels, Cessair slid her paws forward along the damp earth until her stomach lay flat against the ground and her claws dangled in the flowing water. For the last two years, the fawn-colored wolf imagined herself like this very creek, freely wandering, exploring the world. But now she lay still, and the creek kept moving. No, Cessair was like a rock. She always had been. When she lost her brother, Dolan, she had only been several months old. The next two and a half years of her life were spent searching, always searching for him. She hardly acknowledged that she had long since grown up; even less would she admit that her brother was no more than a memory, a dream, now. She was stuck in the past like a stone in the creek.
Creamy paws stood and absently splashed into the water. It was a half-frozen river that had claimed Dolan so long ago, and now it was into this cheerful creek she would release his memory. If she was never to see him again, it was high time she let his memory be and got on with her life. Cessair's nose touched the water as her tail swished slowly behind her. Goodbye, my brother. Go and find your peace, and I will search for mine.