But what of the wanderer, who tirelessly tries to return to what their family once called home? But what of the wanderer, and those who love them? Will their name, carved into bark and blood, be enough to satiate that wanderlust when an ocean lies between land, and home? Or will the tree become a blackbird, desperate to cross that ocean, even if that crossing is alone, in order to reconnect those roots that were once so unceremoniously shattered?

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