It had been a few moons since Silverweed had become a part of Watership Down. there was never a day that passed that he regretted it, and the memories from The Warren of the Shining Wire were nothing more than the remnants of a vivid nightmare, along with Woundwort and Darkhaven. At Watership Down, Silverweed could almost pretend that he was… normal.
Fiver had not been bothered by visions in ages, and the days were peaceful, with nothing worse than good natured pranks between the Owsla, and a few sightings of Elil.
The young sleek grey buck took a deep breath of the clear air and exhaled in a sigh.
There was still a slight hang of loss in his heart, however, like a prickle of some sort.
If it were not for Hana… none of this peace would have been possible.
Silverweed stretched out and shook his coat, looking up at the sky. Had it been really so long since the sky had turned black and Woundwort and his army had been dragged away by a power that was not of nature?
Had it been