My head snaps up. Did Rowan Callahan just use a writing metaphor?
"Each blaze tells you what's coming next," he continues, leading me to the trailhead. "Two stacked marks mean the trail's about to change direction. A single mark means you're on the right path. Think of them as..." Another pause. "Like punctuation for the forest."
"Punctuation for the forest," I repeat softly, something warm unfurling in my chest. He's speaking my language.
"This one here." He touches a blue mark on a tree. "What's it telling you?"
I step closer, actually looking at the mark instead of just assuming it's decorative like I usually do. "It's angled? Like it's pointing right?"
"Good." There's approval in his voice that makes me stand a little straighter. "And what does that mean?"
"That the trail turns right?"
"See?" His lips quirk up. "You can do this when you're not distracted by making up political hierarchies for the local wildlife."
I stick my tongue out at him, but I'm already scanning for the next marker. "There! Another blue one. But this one's straight up and down."
"Which means?"
"Keep going straight?"
He nods, and I actually feel proud of myself. Who knew there was a whole secret language written on the trees?
"Show me more?" I ask, and something in my tone makes him really look at me.
"You're actually interested in this."
"Of course I am. It's like..." I wave my hands, trying to find the words. "It's like the forest is telling us a story. We just have to learn how to read it."
For a moment, Rowan's quiet. Then, so softly I almost miss it, "That's exactly what my dad used to say."
Oh.
Before I can respond, Rascal lets out an excited yip. A deer has appeared on the trail ahead, watching us with gentle curiosity.
"Don't move," Rowan whispers, scoping up Rascal. For once, I'm not thinking about chasing after the wildlife. I'm watching how still Rowan becomes, how his presence somehow both commands attention and fades into the forest. The deer holds his gaze for a long moment before gracefully disappearing into the undergrowth.
"That was amazing," I breathe.
"You're learning." He sounds pleased. "Yesterday you would have tried to interview it about local government."
"Well, I'm sure it had very important opinions about forest infrastructure," I say primly, but I'm grinning. "Seriously though, how do you do that? Become so still?"
"Practice." He starts walking again, but his pace is slower, more deliberate. "It's about respect. Understanding that we're guests here. That everything in these woods has its own story, even without us making up tales about them."
I scribble quickly in my notebook, not character ideas this time, but actual notes about trail reading and forest etiquette. When I look up, Rowan's watching me with an expression I can't quite read.
"What?"
"Nothing." He shakes his head. "You're full of surprises, city girl."
"Good ones, I hope?"
Something flickers in his eyes, but before he can respond, I spot another trail marker. "Oh! This one has two marks, but they're offset. Does that mean...?"
"Trail junction ahead," he confirms, and if his voice is a little rough, I pretend not to notice. "Want to try leading for a while? See if you can follow the story?"
"Really?"
