Without the death match looming over her head, Audrey had enough headspace to fully appreciate the beauty of Wolfhenge.
The trees appeared richer in color and life, the grove carved by the sure hands of a magical being, even the altar where the fight had happened seemed otherworldly placed beneath the oculus high above.
Her palms trailed over the rough, ancient barks of the pines, inhaling their soothing fragrance as she circled the groove.
"What's the legend of Wolfhenge?" She asked without thinking, her mind distracted.
Deckard watched her from the other side. "You make it sound like a fairytale."
"It can't be helped." She waved at the ambience around them. "There's something seriously magical about this groove. Nature doesn't intertwine roots to form such a strong foundation."
She pointed at the oculus through which the clear blue sky of early evening could be seen. "Branches shouldn't curl like those."
