Friday
The next evening, as they climb a ridge, Roman spots something glinting in the distance. When they get closer, they find a small stone carving of a raven perched atop a weathered totem pole half-buried in the ground.
Roman kneels, brushing dirt from the base of the pole. “This...this feels familiar.”
Jas looks at him. “Maybe you’re closer to finding your story than you think.”
Roman picks up the small raven carving, turning it over in his hands. For the first time in weeks, he smiles.