Chapter 9
High above the ground, the Sentinel stood right on the point of the tree branch between where her weight was supported easily and the bendy region where a sudden movement would surely send her to her death again.
The view was spectacular enough to distract her for quite some time, and she soaked it in as greedily as her lungs soaked in air—scented with pine and honey and blossoms—as she recovered from the climb. Under her feet, helpful rustling reminded her how deeply she was loved and cherished here, as the tree began to redirect its energy into growing faster beneath her toes, the branch thickening and strengthening with miraculous speed. The timeless pine hungered to keep her safe at least as much as it hungered for the sweet nectar of warm sunlight. Deep textured wisdom flo
