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The silver fox led Danton into a thick forest of pine trees. The sorcerer had to bend over and push hard to force his way through the perimeter of overhanging branches to breach the pine forest’s boundary. Once inside, the trees formed a dense canopy overhead with few lower branches to obstruct his course. Underfoot, the forest floor was covered with pine needles and mosses of different shades of green and yellow. Tiny brooks, no more than a foot wide, flowed along channels they had cut in the soft ground.
“This is beautiful,” breathed Danton as he stopped to look around. Immediately the fox sat and waited.
Danton squatted down next to a brook and scooped handfuls of crystal clear water into his mouth. “Hmm. Cold. Can’t taste any pine in it. Lovely.” He shook the water off his hand a
