Gemotions

The late afternoon sun warmed Elara's face as she strolled along the familiar path. A gentle breeze rustled through the leaves, a symphony she'd always loved. Her hands were clasped loosely behind her back, her shoulders relaxed. She was humming a tuneless melody, eyes scanning the familiar landscape of her childhood.

She rounded the bend and stopped, a soft gasp escaping her lips. Where a proud oak had once stood, a yawning emptiness remained. The ground was churned earth, the scent of fresh cut wood a stark contrast to the familiar fragrance of pine needles and damp soil.

Her fingers tightened on each other, a flicker of irritation crossing her face. "Blast," she muttered under her breath, a touch of annoyance in her voice. The quietness felt tainted, as if a song had stopped mid-note.