Sasha’s Pov
The stream wound through the trees like a silver ribbon unfurling across green velvet. Its waters sparkled beneath the lazy golden sun, clear enough to see the smooth stones resting at the bottom, the flick of darting fish, the occasional swirl of fallen leaves. Dragonflies zipped just above its surface, wings catching the light like shards of stained glass.
The forest here was quieter, gentler. A cathedral of pine and moss, hushed beneath towering trunks that breathed out a scent of wet earth and resin. Even the wind moved differently, threading between the branches like a lullaby.
We’d stopped to rest, though rest had become a rare, precious thing these days. It felt like the world only paused when it was trying to lure us into believing we were safe.
Alex stood barefoot
