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The wind weaved its way around Quinn’s dress as she walked back home; cold and incessantly eating away at the little warmth in her body. She felt guilty, father said he wanted this night to him and his mate, and she was now going home to ruin it… Should she not go home yet? The air was cold, but it was refreshing. Quinn twisted on her heels, walking towards the east borders instead of her father’s house. There was this tree she used to call her own there, one of the tallest trees on this land. It was old, the limbs were dry and collapsing, but every spring, it grew leaves. She didn’t know how it continued to survive through the winters, but it always did, and Quinn would congratulate it every year. Every time she felt down and weak, she’d go there just to look at that tree, because i