It was late that fall. My mother, Shadowreed, took my me out to the woods to find one of those strange healing herbs that only grows in a certain place. I had gone there many times, so I knew the way. When we got there, I sat down on a flat chunk of quartz and began picking the little orange flowers of the the herb. My mother left for a while and told me that she would be right back. I waited for hours, until I finally went looking for her.She was in a ditch, her bright amber eyes transfixed in an eternal gaze, and two marks on her neck where she had been bitten by an adder. I stood there not knowing what to do, until I finally brought her body to the patch of herbs, and buried her. I planted a young willow sapling on her grave, for she always loved willows. I sometimes thought I could hear her voice from the tree, but it was too quiet to make out whether it was my imagination or not.