The lake lay still beneath the sky, which was already almost black. Only the moon drew a silver ribbon across the water, so smooth that every breath seemed like a disturbance. I had slipped away from the fire, needed air, needed distance. The voices of the others still carried to here, muffled, carried by the wind – laughter, a call, the crackling of wood.
I stood at the shore, my shoes half in the sand, half in the grass, and watched as the waves dissipated in tiny circles. My heart was beating too loudly, as if it wanted to tell me something I didn't yet understand.
"You're running away."
The voice made me flinch. I turned around – Alaric. Hands deep in his pockets, shoulders tense. He looked as if he had been standing there the whole time, just waiting for me to finally notice him.
"I just wanted... peace," I murmured.
