Golden Glade illumination

an inevitable truth settles into jameson's chest like a stone cast into his heart.

he is lost.

has been lost for some time.

it had started with a visit to his soldier's family farm; helping the herding dogs patrol the perimeter. a couple of scrappy coyotes had tried to come for the sheep. and protective instincts had gone into hyperfocus. he gave chase and he killed the coyote he could catch and then ... he kept going.

a war between the wild call in his blood of his father and the iron pull of duty of his mother.

and now, he knows not where is. a glade nestled betwixt soaring slopes that reminds him of home ... except these walls are nature made rock instead of the sharp tang of chainlinked, barbed fence that hummed with an energy that jameson had never truly understood but had known not to touch.

he stops to take a drink at a small puddle of snowmelt, giving a scratch at his collar. this is the longest he's worn it and once a mild but understood irritation it's become a safety blanket.

a sound draws his attention nearby and he moves in the thick foliage, not trying to be stealthy necessarily; whiskey gaze watching the woman as she appears to be drawing lines and placing herbs. their scents tickle his nose; unfamiliar.

what is she doing? the thought takes hold in his mind as he watches, brow furrowing.