Bramblepoint of the end of the world,

Cole turned, catching a glimpse of the woman’s radiant coat, like sunlight filtering through the dense brambles—golden, yet dappled with shades of blonde. The question caught him off guard, laced with a playful tone that didn’t quite fit the usual greetings he was used to.

Wouldn’t be the first time, he replied, his voice rough but not unfriendly. He swept a few of the lingering bramble thorns from his coat, feeling as if he’d wandered into her territory, right down to the berries he’d thought about taking.

Guess I’ve gone an’ trespassed, haven’t I? Thought I could borrow a bite, he added, with a slight tilt of his head, a wry glint in his eyes acknowledging her light-hearted accusation.