Blackfeather Woods Like summer storms, the skies as grey as leaves.

She did not deny him the trail of her spine. She leaned to smell the earthen scents of his legs. Well traveled, no scents that stirred a memory or that belong explicitly to here.

A sound rumbled in her chest, something intended to be apologetic.

Her gaze did not return to the great mysterious tree yet. Too fascinated and perplexed by the strange man.