<blockquote>He hadn't come back. He had left them, where they had stopped to rest, to regain strength, to recover from the drought, and he hadn't come back. Anybody else in any similar situation would have assumed that he abandoned them. That he had left them there to rot. But after waiting, days of anxious waiting, seeing his face would not bring relief: it was an omen. And they had finally decided, after weeks, that he was not coming back. And they were saved.
She loved her brother dearly, but his absence had given her hope. Niija had led the rest of them back to Relic Lore in hopes that his absence proved what they had all been hoping for: there was water. And, alas, there was, flowing through the lands, bountiful and fresh. The first thing on her mind had been to return to the sacred grove. She needed to see everybody, she needed to make sure that everybody was okay. She needed to make sure that Borlla had returned safe, despite her ignorance of Indru's words. Niija had to make sure that her sister had made it alive.
So it was with great pleasure that she set paws within the grove again. The others were somewhere behind her, wandering, hunting, acquainting themselves with the lands and the others they had met before they left. Niija, however, just wanted to go home. Or at least, what they considered home now. A sigh pressed from her chest as she stood among the snow, feeling the chill of the afternoon wind tousling her coat, running its fingers along her back. Clearing her throat, Niija raised her head and gave a short, soft call, beckoning those she called her family, with warmth and hope in her heart and eagerness to see them all again.
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