The woods in the morning after the rain were so calm. The air was still cool and damp, and the daylight drifted through the branches in a muted, diffused way. The ground was saturated with water, and there were small puddles all around.
The leaves and branches were dripping wet, and the whole woods seemed to be washed. The rocks that have been hidden under leaves and debris were now visible and slick with moss. The ferns which were ladened with raindrops hung low and the mushrooms that were barely visible before were now standing out like small, colourful gemstones.
Slowly, the sun began to rise over the horizon, casting a golden light and warming up the damp air.
I perceived the scent of rogues nearby and I began to look around, flickering my ear to pick up any sound. I jiggled when
