The sun fell in slanted lines of gold through the leaves and mist. It lit up the motes of dust dancing through the air and dappled the soft forest floor. Flowers in a multitude of colors peeked between the gnarled roots of trees that twisted upward to brush the sky with their branches. It was a snapshot afternoon, the kind you'd see in paintings and cheesy postcards. And midst it all someone smiled contently
Arvid sat with his back against a great pine, humming to himself. The bark was rough and old and it dwarfed his slight frame. The ancient tree whispered softly with the breeze. Snippets of words were blown from its branches as it sighed and groaned about how the world had turned and the sun had shifted. Pine trees were broody sorts, Arvid had found, but they also didn't care if you were really listening all that much. He kept one ear cocked to the old thing but most of it just slipped through his head. Mostly he just soaked up the sun that filtered between the branches. It was pleasantly cool in the shade and it was surprisingly easy to doze off.
