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Echo: In the old world she was afraid of every living creature, even moths.
Now: She chose to become a listener. Dark leaves grow through her hair, and the birds of Ardithian trust her enough to nest in them.
Juicy tidbit: Birds started nesting in her hair the same week the animals began to vanish. Whatever they know, they're telling her first.
Hazel's Echo is the color of brown paper, plain and folded small. In the old world she flinched at every wing and paw. The seam left her on the edge of the Fringelands, surrounded by creatures who didn't flinch at her. Slowly, she learned their sounds. A rustle of leaves meant hello. A certain chirp meant danger. Now her violet eye watches the skies over Elibom with growing concern, because lately the birds have been flying in strange patterns. Hazel is listening. She just isn't sure yet who she should tell.
Echo: In the old world she was afraid of every living creature, even moths.
Now: She chose to become a listener. Dark leaves grow through her hair, and the birds of Ardithian trust her enough to nest in them.
Juicy tidbit: Birds started nesting in her hair the same week the animals began to vanish. Whatever they know, they're telling her first.
Hazel's Echo is the color of brown paper, plain and folded small. In the old world she flinched at every wing and paw. The seam left her on the edge of the Fringelands, surrounded by creatures who didn't flinch at her. Slowly, she learned their sounds. A rustle of leaves meant hello. A certain chirp meant danger. Now her violet eye watches the skies over Elibom with growing concern, because lately the birds have been flying in strange patterns. Hazel is listening. She just isn't sure yet who she should tell.