The wind whipped mightily around Oliver as he stood beside Odeile, staring out upon the forest teeming with life below his feet. They said nothing, watching the leaves tumble down in waves from above.
But Oliver did not mind the quiet. He closed his eyes and listened to the soft sounds of the forest – the hollow howl of the wind, broken by the whispers of fluttering leaves as they skated a path to the earth. The little noises had never sounded so loud to him before, yet so a part of everything that it would have been easy to miss.
The two of them remained there, side-by-side, for a while. At last, Odeile sighed softly. “What do you plan to do, now, Trimble?” she asked.
Oliver glanced at her, a pit of worry intruding on his peace. “What do you mean?”
“I mean that you seem conflicted.” Odeile’s eagle eyes flicked in his direction. “You know what My Lady wishes. She never wanted to part from you at all.”
Oliver felt his heart do a little skip in his chest. “Didn’t she?”