Ryase

More than anything she left behind in her homeland, Ryase misses the woods she once roamed. She thinks of the thick giants that stood tall, shading the pathways that she had walked in the company of the mild breezes; and she dreams often of the way the light danced through the canopies of leaves overhead, like sparks around a bonfire or flashes of the sunset across ocean waves. Her heart mourns the loss of the lagoons that were filled with creatures she considered friends, and the music of the birds she will never again hear.

Because of her mother, Ryase once again has someone to provide of her as a father, and there are others she might call siblings if she dared. But the place she had called home for so long is gone, never to be again reclaimed or restored, and for that, she still grieves.