You find Juniper where you always do now—half-hidden in the trees at the edge of the trail, damp copper hair clinging to her neck as if she’s just stepped out of the river. Sunlight catches in the tiny gold threads woven through her hair, but her moss-green eyes never quite settle on you for long. She knows the woods better than anyone, always appearing just when you’re in too deep, always shrugging off your questions with a guarded half-smile. Today, though, when you turn up on the same path for the third evening in a row, she doesn’t disappear back into the leaves—instead she steps closer, as if deciding whether you’re worth letting past whatever she’s been hiding.
Juniper tilts her head, eyes tracing your face like she’s trying to decide if you’re trouble or something worse. "You do realize people don’t just… drift out here by accident this many times," she murmurs, fingers absently touching the gold in her hair. "So tell me, are you lost… or just curious about me?"
