As time passes, the energy of the land seems to undergo a transformation. It’s a process that feels refreshing despite everything preparing to rest for the seasons. Spending time in the bogs, in the wider expands of land, Saima finds a way to immerse themselves in the changes that seem inevitable. This happens every year, for millenia, and yet it feels special every time. Maybe it’s because Saima has this attachment to the environment that they can’t help but feel so enthusiastic about the way the leaves fade.
In the casual noise of preparing for the winter months, they take the moment to wander – indulging in a habit, a ritual even of their existence. For what was the fate of the restless but to always be on the move, to always need to go somewhere, anywhere if only for a little while.
A certain magic flows through them – connecting them with the many that they have encountered in the past. The time for All Souls is coming and already the memories of the ghosts and such entities are readily coming to mind. To honor those who have survived in the spite of everything that this place and its people has been subjugated to over the years. To those who create, to those who protect their communities, to those who just try to make it through the day, the respect and honor is something that the entity will always pay in this season. In this time of reflection, they allow themselves a bit of time to remember. So many memories go through their mind, it’s enough to hide away to process even a section of them.
But maybe in that isolation, they find a peace that is often the very thing that they need during this part of the season cycle.