_Author’s POV_
The forest was genuinely beautiful at this time of year.
The spring growth had reached the point where everything was fully present without yet being heavy, the undergrowth thick enough to be interesting without blocking sight lines, the canopy letting light through in shifting patterns, the whole place smelling of damp earth and pine resin and something faintly floral from a flowering shrub that grew in clusters along the stream bank.
Rowena moved through it the way she moved through everything, quietly, with the attention of someone who had been taught to notice. Her father had brought her here specifically to learn that. A forest tells you everything if you stop making noise long enough to listen.
Pierre moved beside her with the ease of a man whose wolf was
