Rose grabbed the tin can and fishing tools, leading Edmund toward the birch forest.
The birch forest stretched in a broad crescent around the hill where Beechwood House and the red-brick house stood—a dense cluster of slender, silver-trunked trees.
Following Rose along the narrow woodland path, Edmund glanced around nervously.
Walking deeper into the forest with this unreliable, snot-nosed girl made his chest tighten with anxiety.
But there was nothing in the forest dangerous enough to threaten children.
The ground was carpeted with blooming bluebells, their vivid violet hues painting the forest floor. The air was saturated with golden sunlight filtering between the branches, mingling with the heady scent of spring flowers.
Goldfinches flitted between the white bark of the birch trees and the fresh, pale-green leaves, chirping brightly in cheerful song.
The forest cradled the anxious boy like a gentle lullaby.
As the peacefulness seeped into Edmund’s heart, the tension in his sharp blue eyes slowly faded.
Listening to the birdsong, Edmund’s gaze naturally drifted to Rose, clattering her tin can as she walked ahead.
She wasn’t wearing a hat—not that a hat could contain that wild mess of hair anyway. Her fiery-red curls shot out in every direction like untamed weeds.
When sunlight caught her hair, it shimmered like flames. Just standing near her felt like getting too close to a fire—it looked as though it would scorch anyone who dared touch it.
Her clothes clearly belonged to her brothers; the baggy trousers billowed like skirts with every step she took. Had it not been for the suspenders, those trousers would’ve slipped right off her scrawny frame.
Edmund couldn’t understand why a girl would walk around in old boys’ clothes.
Worse yet, she wasn’t even wearing shoes. He’d seen boys running barefoot like deer, but never a girl.
Honestly, everything about Rose Panning baffled Edmund—and he had no desire to understand her.
But despite his scornful stare, Rose strolled along the woodland path, light as air, as if walking on clouds. She even started singing at the top of her lungs.
“Following the map drawn by the stars,
To the silver birch forest where the goldfinches sing…”
As if responding to the little girl’s song, the goldfinches’ chirping grew even more lively. The birch trees swayed in the breeze, adding their rustling leaves like a chorus.
Rose sang, and the whole forest seemed to join her song.
“Don’t worry when darkness falls,
The fireflies and moonlight will guide our way,
Take the dryads by the hand,
Past the bluebell carpets lining the birch halls,
To the River Sadie, where the forest fairies and animal friends await…”
Edmund, with his high standards for beauty and music alike, couldn’t bear the out-of-tune melody.
‘Noisy,’ he thought coldly.
He was irritated that Rose’s singing and dancing had slowed them down.
“Where exactly is this fishing spot?” he snapped.
“Just a little farther! But you know we have to catch dragonflies first, right?”
“How would I know that?!”
Edmund’s legs, unused to physical activity, were already nearing their limit. His shins throbbed with dull pain.
He wanted to turn back, but stubbornly pushed through.
The truth was, he was a boy after all—he had always been curious about bugs and fishing. He’d even read books about insects, cover to cover.
But having grown up in the city, he’d never seen real bugs up close. So when Rose shoved a stag beetle in his face during their first meeting, he’d panicked and smacked it away.
This time, however, Edmund was confident he wouldn’t be startled.
Whether it was dragonflies or fish, the idea of seeing creatures from his books in real life sparked a rare patience within him.
The River Sadie flowed eastward, marking the border between the birch forest and the densely wooded foothills of the mountains.
The river was wide but shallow, its clear, cheerful waters burbling softly.
Across the river, the scent of fresh pine drifted on the breeze from the thick conifer forest.
As soon as they arrived at the river, Rose prepared a spot for Edmund to sit.
“Edmund, come sit here! I even laid out my handkerchief for you!”
A clean, white handkerchief was spread over a smooth rock, perfectly sized for a child.
Edmund, grumbling as he approached, only sat after inspecting the handkerchief for snot stains.
Meanwhile, Rose was gathering pine branches and carefully winding spider silk around the ends.
Curious, Edmund tapped his sore legs and finally asked,
“Why are you collecting spider webs?”
“To catch dragonflies.”
“With that?”
The explanation made no sense, but Edmund couldn’t look away from what happened next.
Holding her makeshift dragonfly net, Rose approached the riverbank, where tall, green reeds swayed.
The water grasses towered over Rose’s head, their long leaves drooping like ribbons. Dragonflies darted overhead or clung to the reed tips, teasing her as they zipped by.
But Rose didn’t panic. She raised her net and stalked a single dragonfly with unwavering focus.
Like a seasoned hunter, she approached with steady, deliberate steps. Edmund, watching intently, swallowed nervously without realizing it.
Finally, Rose froze in place. She lifted her net slowly, then struck.
Did she catch it?
Curiosity prickling, Edmund stood up.
“I got it! Edmund, look!”
Rose dashed over, holding the net aloft. Sure enough, a dragonfly was tangled in the spider silk!
Edmund’s blue eyes sparkled like a lake.
Rose took a mesh pouch from her pocket and gently placed the dragonfly inside, then handed it to Edmund.
It was a green emperor dragonfly—exactly like the ones he’d seen in his books.
As he studied it, Edmund’s gaze drifted to Rose, adjusting her net.
She’d caught a dragonfly with nothing but a branch and some spider silk.
In that moment, his opinion of her shifted—dirty, ugly snot-nosed brat no longer seemed entirely accurate. She was… a skilled dragonfly hunter.
Suddenly, Rose lifted her head and their eyes met.
“Hehe.”
Rose grinned brightly at him—just as a line of snot dripped from her nose.
Edmund’s face crumpled like paper.
If only she hadn’t done that, he thought bitterly. She almost looked cool for once.
His fragile illusion shattered, Edmund tossed the handkerchief he’d been sitting on.
“Stop smiling and wipe your nose!”
“Hehe, sorry.”
Still grinning like an idiot, Rose wiped her nose, then held out the net.
“Want to try catching one?”
Edmund stared silently at the net.
It was too tempting an offer to reject out of pride. Watching Rose catch that dragonfly had sparked a genuine desire in him to try.
“I’ll help you, so just give it a shot, okay?”
Her persistent encouragement finally swayed him. His curiosity won over his pride.
“…If you insist.”
Feigning reluctance, Edmund took the net—but his grip was determined.
The boy who had threatened Rose earlier with “This better be fun or else” was nowhere to be seen. His face, flushed with excitement, betrayed his anticipation.
Seeing Edmund’s interest, Rose lit up with joy, her cheerful voice rising.
“I’ll lure the dragonfly over, and when I give the signal, you swing the net, okay?”
“Got it, now hurry! The dragonflies are gonna fly away!”
Eager, Edmund shoved her forward.
At the riverbank, Rose snapped off a long reed and crept silently toward a dragonfly perched high among the grasses.
Reaching up, she twirled the reed, spinning it in front of the dragonfly to disorient its vision—a clever trick to confuse the insect.
Following instructions, Edmund stood ready, firmly gripping the net and waiting for Rose’s signal.
But just as Rose was about to cue him, a gust of wind swept through the reeds.
Startled by the sudden breeze, the dragonfly snapped back to its senses.
“No!”
Edmund cried out, despairing as the dragonfly lifted from the reed tip.
But Rose stayed calm.
“Now! Swing it!”
“Now?!”
Panicked but obedient, Edmund swung the net.
A slight resistance traveled up the branch to his fingers—he’d caught something.
Wide-eyed, he lifted the net.
The children erupted in joyful cheers.
“We caught it!”
Their pure, innocent voices echoed across the riverbank.
Overcome with excitement, Edmund jumped up and down alongside Rose.
Trying to hide it later, he played it cool—but the thrill of success was impossible to conceal.
Compared to quiet games like catch, cards, chess, or building blocks, this wild, outdoor adventure was a completely different kind of joy.
His first successful hunt in the wild—Edmund would never forget it.
“Let’s catch more!”
“Yeah!”
The children raced along the riverbank, netting dragonflies together.
Despite his initial reluctance, Edmund forgot the time, playing happily with Rose.
Every time he swung the net on her signal, they succeeded. How could it not be fun?
But before the wall around his heart could fully crumble, their joyful moment ended abruptly.
As they examined the dragonflies they’d caught, a loud commotion echoed from the forest path.
The two children lifted their heads, glancing toward the noise.