XXXII
“Well, well,” a woman’s voice, laced with laughter and carried gently on the breeze, reached my ears as Tatiana threw another handful of petals over me. The soft end-of-summer wind stirred the field around us, rustling tall grass and coaxing the leaves of nearby trees into a quiet symphony. “It’s nice to see her interacting with others. She’s normally very shy.” I didn’t need to look up to know it was Paul’s Mate and wife, Kaylene. Her presence was as familiar as the wind that whispered through the grove. She sighed, the sound blending with the hush of nature, and slowly lowered herself to the ground beside me. The grass bent beneath her, golden and green, cradling her like an old friend. Tatiana turned to her mother, her expression suddenly serious—a stark contrast to the pure, untainte
- Writer
