Athogwen stood, her scythe in one hand, Gwae resting on her outstretched arm. The dawn broke slowly between the trees, filtering through the green leaves to dapple her skin in shadow. She smiled in spite of herself, her golden hair caught in a cool breeze. She placed the scythe on the ground and sat beside it, readying her pack for the new day.

She glanced once more at the distinct patches of blue, the horizon calling her name. Her fingers twined absently around the silver beech leaf on the delicate chain round her neck. She bowed her head in silent reverence of this natural beauty, so often ignored. She sighed, complete awe tangible in the air around her.

All was right with the world.