SwingsThe park was chilly, but winter was slowly losing the fight.Skies were grey above wet ground, but the trees seemed to be waiting eagerly for the sun to return. Some were budding already, Cortland noted. Seemed early in the year, but then the weather had been so erratic recently; which suited his moods just fine, he couldn't help but think with a grimace.As he got closer to the small playground in the center of the park, Cortland spied the back of a familiar, gangly figure slotted into one of the swings, and a smile found him at the sight. Bright red hair seemed a welcome contrast to the day's greys and browns. Hinges creaked a little as I