Kaelen
The scent of moss and damp earth was the first thing Kaelen noticed.
It clung to his clothes, his hair, even his skin.
He sat bolt upright, the memory of the dream so vivid it felt like a memory, not a fantasy.
The stag.
Those unearthly green eyes.
The sensation of the crushing, silent power of something that had moved with the weight of mountains.
The creature had made his hackles raise, the familiar chill of warning crawling up his spine as it looked at him. It wasn't the sight of it that had woken him, though.
It was the feeling of being pushed away, of having something vital and precious taken from him.
Severance.
Kaelen had rushed through the thickets madly, running on instinct as soon as he smelled her familiar wildflower scent, a perfume he would know anywher
