Oliver sighed and quickly stepped between them. "Right, right, okay — maybe next time, uh, ask for permission before doing that."
Seraphine blinked, processing that.
"Acknowledged. Permission protocol: acquired."
Isolde pinched the bridge of her nose. "If that's what counts as 'permission protocol,' I'm going to lose my mind before we even leave this forest."
Elisha chuckled softly from behind them, her hood half-pulled over her hair. "She's not doing any harm. It's actually… fascinating. It's like seeing a lost civilization walking beside us."
"Yeah," Oliver muttered. "One that doesn't understand boundaries."
Still, he couldn't help but notice — as strange and unnerving as Seraphine was, there was something oddly innocent about her. She moved with perfect grace, yet her gaze lingered on the smallest things: dew on leaves, birds darting between branches, Ariana's glowing staff when she cast her morning restoration spells.
