She’d given up her room in Zander’s house to Luas and his aunt and uncle, and had spent the night on the loveseat in the living room. The morning was busy and crowded at the house, with bodies moving here and there going about their morning rituals. She needed to be alone, so after throwing some warm clothes on, she escaped to her favorite writing place in the woods, where she spent a long time sitting and staring at the Wall. She remembered back to the last time she’d been there to write. How it had been a beautiful, bright day, how her world had seemed so perfect then. It hadn’t been that long ago. Everything had changed since then. Her world was no longer beautiful and content. It was now ugly and full of chaos. Even she was a different person now. In contrast to that day not so long ago, it was now freezing cold out and the clouds were a bitter shade of grey. Tree branches hung sadly with the weight of snow, and no birds flitted carelessly about. The silence was harsh. But Clover didn’t care.
