Dos’s Point of View
June was behind me, dragging her feet just a little as we made our way through the lush, green forest of Isla Del Fierte. Sunlight streamed through the leaves above us in golden beams, and the air was filled with the sounds of chirping birds and distant rustling leaves. A soft breeze cut through the thick humidity, but I could still hear her panting softly.
“Where are we going?” she asked for what had to be the fifth time.
I smirked to myself. That pout in her voice never failed to amuse me.
Turning around, I spotted her brushing a branch away from her face, lips pursed, hair damp from sweat. She looked tired. Slightly cranky. Absolutely beautiful.
“You’ll see when we get there,” I answered, reaching for her hand to pull her gently over a gnarled root.
She stopped
