DECKARD'S POV
Deckard sought solace in the woods. Among the ancient trees, wild beasts and sappy shrubs. Nature amazed him as much as a nerd who got high on punching numbers. Green leaves, the whisper of trees under wind, clear skies, chirping birds, and the likes.
He would've preferred to go for a run in his wolf form but he didn't want to risk it. Not so soon after being with her. Her scent still lingered at the tip of his nose and the folds of his suit. If he let the wolf out things would get crazy. Surely.
His hurried feet led him to a small spring west of their property, set within a nook between some kind of rocky embankment and a cluster of oaks. He liked to think that Tristan was unaware of this spot. That it belonged to him alone.
The surface of the spring glistened clear and calm under the fading light of evening. A handful of tiny fishes scuttled close to the smooth floor, otherwise it was empty.
