Cassian
The walk to the lake was longer than I was used to because Annabeth made a lot of short stops and pauses finding out the perfect angle, composition or the light for her pictures.
She was so engrossed with the work, watching the world around her with the wide curious eyes of an artist who was looking at the plain white canvas before painting the masterpiece. She kneeled on the ground and waited for the perfect moment as the sun hit the trees just right for her to take the picture as the camera snapped. I was looking at her entranced by her simple beauty and extraordinary passion she carried.
She stopped by a small bush and leant over on one leg as she angled the camera. She turned around to face us, as we were still in our wolf form, as she came over to where I was sitting.
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