Neilson’s POV:
There’s a sweet scent of morning droplets around me. The blurriness faded, autumn leaves from the infinite tall trees lay scattered on the forest floor, motion turning crisp brown. The air was frosty, cold, brutal. Taking a single step, sounds of crunchiness flew in the air, filling up the silence. My feet were bare, covered in dead leaves.
“Muffin! Come on!” a sweet sound traces in the air.
I look up, and she smiles at me, waving a hand in her direction.
“Alice.”
“Come on, Slow-po!” she shouts and runs in the other direction.
“Alice! Alice!” I scream, rushing after her. Alice dashes through the woods, faster than I anticipated. I increased my speed, chasing after her, leaping over logs and sharped rocks. We dodged and zipped past oak trees, with lowered and
