Kingsley breathed in the night air and tried to memorize the scents on the breeze. Pine… so much pine. Hard to smell anything other than pine. But he could detect a trace of the not-too-distant ocean on the air, and the faraway smoke from someone’s fire. Beautiful, this perfume the night wore—he would remember it always. He told himself that as he followed Søren to the edge of the forest and down a well-trodden path.