"Click."
The wooden gate latch rattled shut, completely sealing off the suffocating chaos and the greedy, prying eyes of the crowd outside.
The dirt path leading up the mountain behind their house still held the fragile mist of the early morning. It was no longer spring, autumn had set in for a few weeks now. The morning air carried a slight chill that brushed against their faces, sweeping through the leaves that had already begun to turn a withered yellow overhead, bringing with it a desolate, rustling sound.
Ewan walked in front, the heels of his shoes crunching on the carpet of dry, crumbled leaves. Even though the autumn mist was refreshingly cool, the knot of anger in his chest had yet to fully dissipate.
