Too much was happening all at once. Rowans mind was spinning, spinning like it had never done before. He could’t quite decide what was up or down, right or left, all he knew was that he had to keep moving, even if each step sent fresh waves of pain to register in his overloaded brain. “The graveyard makes the most sense. Wouldn’t a witch have more power there, be connected to the spirits and the ancestors?” He said, half asking a question, half directing. Advising really. Watching his brother, he had a fairly giid guess at what was about to happen. Not that anything about this was good. This was chaos. This was another damned tragedy, and inwardly he cursed the world for forcing this on them, for forcing this on Dash. It was bloody unfair, so much so that Rowan was unusually quiet and had run out of words. Cause what could he say? What could he do? Besides what he was already doing.. which was moving trough the snow at the highest speed possible, yelling over the wind when needed, and trying not to pass out from worry. Why did it have to be Rose.. And why the hell wasn’t he healing faster!? The frustration would only grow. He was slowing Dash down.. but there was no chance that he would turn around. He didn’t care what it cost in form of energy and strength. They’d find the Cresswell girls. They had to.
