The trail wound through like a ribbon of earth. Lívia moved with the restless energy of someone who'd been confined too long. Her boots scuffed the dirt with purposeful rhythm, camera swinging from her neck, capturing the way morning light filtered through eucalyptus leaves. At twenty-three, she was still learning the difference between running away and running toward.
Up ahead, a figure stood still against the backdrop of the valley. A woman, older, facing away from the trail, shoulders relaxed in quiet contemplation. Something about the stillness drew Lívia's attention—how the woman seemed to belong there, not passing through like Lívia was.
"Aqui," Lívia murmured, not wanting to startle.
The woman turned, and their eyes met for a fraction too long. Dark, intelligent eyes that seemed to see beyond Lívia's bright smile. The woman nodded once, a small acknowledgment that somehow carried weight. As Lívia passed, she caught a scent of cedar and something else—expensive soap, maybe? Or just the woman's natural scent mingled with mountain air.
Lívia stumbled slightly, a pebble rolling under her boot. She recovered quickly, but not before sensing the older woman's instinctual shift toward her, as if to help. By the time Lívia glanced back, the woman had resumed her position, facing outward towards the valley again.
But something lingered—a current passed between them, intangible but pronounced . Lívia continued uphill, heart beating slightly faster, camera forgotten in her hand.