Radio to the heart

A breakthrough 

Tess paused, inhaling deeply as she stepped into the secluded glade. The air was thick with the scent of pine and damp earth, wrapping around her like a warm embrace, momentarily easing the exhaustion that clung to her limbs. The ancient trees towered above, their leaves filtering the sunlight into a soft, golden glow that danced upon the forest floor. It felt surreal, this moment of peace amidst their struggles, and she savored it.

"How it feels so good to have a breath of relief," Tess murmured to herself, her voice a soft whisper in the tranquility. "The fresh air and the smell are amazing. I wonder what Alistair is up to. I hope he can cook that meat properly. I told him to check it for poison, but he's a demon; he can do magic. I'm pretty sure he'll figure it out himself." The thought made her smile, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly.

"Hello, my dear! It's great to see your beautiful face." Alistair's voice rang out, cheerful and warm, pulling Tess from her thoughts. He stepped into the clearing, his presence instantly lifting her spirits. "After a brief moment away, I got all the meat sorted, and I'm getting ready to make something soon." He chuckled, his bright eyes sparkling with mischief.

Tess chuckled back, though her fatigue clung to her like a shadow. "I trust you with that, Alistair. Just don't burn it, okay?"

"I could never ruin your meal, Tess." He set down his pack and motioned for her to take a seat on a moss-covered log. They both sank down, breathing heavily from their trek, but even exhaustion felt light here in this glade. She wanted to push on, but the peace enveloping them was too inviting.

"Dear, I know you want to go, but we need to take a breather," Alistair said, placing his hand gently on her knee, grounding her. His touch was warm and reassuring. "You just said you love the smell of the pine."

Tess smiled, looking up at him. "You're right, it's just... I feel like we've come so far, and there's still so much left to do."

With a playful grin, Alistair leaned back slightly and began to sing, "Oh, the masochism tango!
Let's do the tango,
With pain, my dear." His voice, smooth and melodious, filled the glade, and the lightness in his tone danced around her like the beams of sunlight filtering through the leaves.

"I'm falling in love with a horrible man,
I love you so much, it's a crime!"

Tess couldn't help but laugh, her heart lifting. "Alistair, every time you sing that song, you pull me out of whatever funk I'm in. I also can't stay upset or frustrated about anything when you sing. You know how much I love the 1930s style," she admitted, swaying slightly to the rhythm of his tune.

"Yes, I do," he replied with a playful smirk. "I guess you could say I'm just smart like that." He winked, his laughter echoing in the glade.

As his voice faded, the serene ambiance settled around them once more. Tess felt a warmth blossom in her chest, a sense of relief and companionship. Alistair's presence was a balm to her weary soul, and in this hidden haven, surrounded by ancient trees and the scent of pine, she found a moment of respite.

She couldn't wait to prepare something splendid with the meat they had. It felt like they could feast for days, creating memories in this sanctuary far from their troubles. The weight of the world lifted slightly, leaving just the two of them, a brief pause in their journey.

The moss-covered log felt cool beneath Tess as she shifted her weight, taking a deep breath to steady herself. She had hesitated to share her childhood memories, the scars of her past still fresh enough to sting, but the serene glade seemed like the perfect place to open up to Alistair.

"It's a long story," Tess began, her voice softer than the rustling leaves. "There are so many times I could recap different things, but they all circle back to the same feeling of isolation." She paused, searching for the right words. "I knew I was the Receiver of Memory from a young age. It was like... like I had this great memory that everyone else seemed to lack. I would recall details, moments from the past, as if they were vivid paintings in my mind. But instead of feeling special, it often made me feel like an outcast, even among my own kind."