- Stories
- Fantasy
- Nightfall Over Emberwood
- Rootspeak
Rootspeak
The roots speak in the hour before dawn, when the sap is moving and the wood is warm, and what they say is mostly weather and grievance.
That night they said a name.
It was a name she had not heard spoken aloud since she was nineteen years old, standing at the edge of the trees in June, watching a man walk into them without a light.
Keep your place, and listen
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