![]() ![]() ![]() She leaned forward, abandoning the sewing on her lap so she could nudge the glass-paned window open a fraction. In the distance the treetops swayed as if in a gust of wind, but the rest of the forest was still. A storm? she wondered, inhaling the strangeness. YEVA WATCHED THE SKY over the far-off forest, listening to the baronessa with one ear. We always know before the change comes-but we never know what the change will bring. But we are trapped, and we can do neither. We could track it, or we could run with it. Each of us could read the change to come, neither hindered by the other. Our frustration vents in growls and grunts. We pace, our steps stirring the early snows. We sense a shift of power when it is coming. We feel the moment the wind changes direction. When a storm approaches, we feel it in the thickness of the air, the tension in the earth awaiting the blanket of snow. Who feels most alive in worlds that never were ![]()
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