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“There once was a doe,
Made of smoke and mud.
When he looked at her,
His heart would thud.”

Greensinger’s voice carried across the marsh, soft and thoughtful, weaving the words together. He had her in his mind, that doe, even now days after. She wasn’t the flashiest but he’d drawn to her instantly. There was a sparkle in her eyes that made him want to smile.

He’d promised to return and check on her but there was one thing he wanted to do first. He was searching for her. He had never met his grandmother, she was a creature of legend, someone spoken of with great reverence.

His mother, Sainfoin, rarely said much but when asked there was love and respect in her voice. When his grandfather spoke of her, it was with sad longing and a broken heart. Last Night seemed long gone from the Swamp but he still held hope, that somewhere out there, he might find her.

Oh wouldn’t that be a tale to be told!

As he walked he made note of the various plants he found along the way. That was a great patch of aloe! Ah, and there was a ginger plant - great for unsettled stomachs! He would backtrack and bring some back for Smoke and Mud.

Perhaps, he thought, his grandmother was living out her life as a spider. In some dark nook, her webs spun. Perhaps she’d forgotten she was even a kin. Could that even happen? To be blessed by the Swamp and then to be cursed to forget all that was dear to you?

“There once was a-”

BUZZ!

Greensinger stopped in his tracks, ears perked.

He followed the sound upwards and found the wasp there, sitting on a mangrove branch, watching him with glowing eyes. For a second his heart skipped a beat but it soon steadied. This wasn’t her. This was someone else. Another.

The wasp was resting with wings unfurled, eerie focus in its impenetrable gaze.

Greensinger cleared his throat.

“I’m looking for someone,” he called up to the wasp. “A legendary, like yourself.” He’d heard of this one before. She’d led others to the mountain, a tale that had been passed across the swamp.

“She’s-” BUZZ!

He was cut off by the thrum of wings as the wasp left its perch and hovered down to meet him, and there was the mare, tall, barely even there, almost a shadow behind the wasp form.

When she spoke, he wasn’t sure if she was using words or if it was just the distant buzz of a hundred wasps.

“You won’t find her. Go back to the doe. Don’t look for something that isn’t there.”

He opened his mouth to speak but just a look from the mare held him silent.

“They will be healthy and strong. There’s nothing else you need now.”

The great mare said nothing more, just stood there waiting, gaze cold and hard. So cold and hard that he was forced to turn back, to march back across the swamp, letting go of that small thread of hope.

He stopped once, to dig up the ginger, holding the root in his mouth, all the way back to the doe who had so caught his eye. A step into the future instead of a step to the past. Greensinger would not find Last Night though that was probably for the best.

If anyone was to do so, it should be Nose-in-the-air.

But maybe, it was time for them to all move on.

And this next generation would surely help.