July 10th; Mid-morning; Broken Clouds; 67.91° F, 19.95° C.
When Oleander had gotten lost on one of his escapades, all he could think about was what it meant to be a Valle, to be Clover's son... Several times over he considered never going back home. To leave his familiar wilderness and all the twists and turns of his beloved Creek. The urgency to be with his mother and in a place where he felt he belonged was but a tiny nudge in the right direction. Maybe one day he would break free, Like Archer had done. He grimaced. Any time he thought of Eros and Archer, he felt like a runt. An unwanted toy. The shortest stick. If Violet and Marguerite were right in their decisions to leave, why hadn't he thought so too?
He shook his head and rolled his shoulders as he found his favorite part of Heartleaf Creek. It might not have been a secret place, but it was one of the few places where pretty shells and an easy bite could be found. If he ever left his mother and father for good, he was sure he would take a mussel shell for good measure... to impress a girl or two. For now, he stood at the water's edge, scanning the shallows for the dark circular forms. He would return to Dead Empress Backwater, but not before he gathered up an offering first...