Golden Glade Born of fire, bound to nothing

for @Mictec

The glade reminded her of home in fleeting ways, though Xochimikan’s vibrant chaos was leagues apart from this golden serenity. Aitana couldn’t decide if the stillness here was inviting or suffocating.

Either way, she wasn’t staying still for long.

She pushed onward, weaving through the trees with a practiced ease. The faint trails she’d crossed earlier hinted at wolves, ones that might be gathering.

Ahead, the sound of rustling leaves caught her attention, and she slowed, lowering herself instinctively.