CHAPTER THIRTYJourney On
The next morning gave us better fortune and a weak sun hovered above the tree canopy. The fresh snowfall had buried more of our world beneath its idyllic carpet and even the sounds of bird call depleted to nothing.
“It’s eerie, isn’t it?” Sorrel whispered. I nodded, appreciating his sense of reverence in our isolation. His eyebrows quirked. “You belong here. The world has become silent and so have you.” He shivered. “I feel loud and out of place.”
I smiled, but wiped the expression clean almost as soon as it flashed across my face. Desiring to hear my own voice more than I wanted air, my inability to communicate hindered every facet of my existence. We worked well enough together, Sorrel and I, but his constant prattle induced a frustration I struggled to master
