She had a destination in mind, and let her feet guide her there. This was a place she and Zephyr had gone day after day for the last two years, a place she knew by heart, a place to which she could walk in her sleep without any trouble. At an intersection between streets, she jumped over the remains of a concrete wall that had been torn down long ago. She pushed through the tall grass that brushed against her thighs, scraping her worn boots through the dirt, ascending the steady incline of the hill until she and Zephyr stood at the crest. There she looked out over all of Oblitus as she had done for the last two years, studying the geometric pattern of streets and steady movement of people, the gilded edges of buildings and the organic leaves of the wiretrees.
Lysandra sat down in the grass, tucking her legs under her and smoothing her skirts over her knees. "You said we came here before all that stuff happened," she began.