At dawn, a faint ray of light pierced through the dense forest and landed on Rosie Scott's eyelids. The glaring brightness awakened her, and the scent of grass and wood filled her nose, a fragrance of freedom.
The young woman leaned against the tree trunk, having slept sitting up all night. When she awoke, no one was beside her; Blake Shaw was nowhere to be seen.
"Blake?" Rosie was a bit nervous, quickly getting up to search around. As she emerged from the dense forest, she saw a boy rolling up his pants, bare-chested, catching fish in the creek.
His movements were clumsy, adopting a pouncing manner to avoid alarming the fish under the water, lunging towards them with his feet as the pivot.
Rosie's slender eyebrows raised, lips pursed in surprise, as water splashed two meters high in her beautiful eyes, and the man stood dripping wet from the creek.
