Those words were like a knife in his chest—and Cylvan said them with so much and so little emotion all at once, as if there were a thousand other things he wished he could add. Words spoken like he’d repeated them his whole life, whether to other people or just to himself. And something about them… made Saffron anxious, like Cylvan was going to suddenly take off into the sky and leave him there. But Saffron was less concerned about being left alone—and more about Cylvan feeling like he had to run at all.
