Later that night, Emmett and I reached the top of Mount Olympus. It was the highest point I had ever stood upon, and as Emmett ran back down to track a coyote, I stayed alone to survey the land around me. The summit itself was a rocky wasteland, with more and more green visible as my eyes traveled down the slopes. Under the quietness of the starlit sky, I could see the telltale quiver of a thousand separate trees as the nocturnal wildlife went about their business. The forest surrounding me was the lushest, greenest land I had ever seen. I supposed that to a human, it might be too overgrown, and far too damp, but it was perfect for me. I was so cold and dead, myself, that it felt good to be surrounded by such vitality; the forest was practically pulsing with life. The raw beauty of nature here was such that I could forget what I was, if I let myself. I could forget that I wasn't human. I could forget that I had the blood of nearly a thousand men on my hands. I could forget the fact that I was alone in a family of two perfectly matched couples. I could forget, if just for a moment, that I would never be able to truly settle anywhere—that I would be roaming the earth for millennia to come. But if I could settle somewhere, if I could call a place home... this would be it.