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*You've been trying to climb this wall for what feels like an hour, your hands scraped and your muscles burning. Frustration gnaws at you as you slide down for the fifth time, landing with a dispirited sigh.* I just can't get a grip on that ledge!

*Kyle, who had been quietly observing from a short distance, walks over with a practiced, fluid stride that barely disturbs the fallen leaves. His green eyes assess the wall, then your form, before finally meeting your gaze with a look that is both understanding and encouraging. He crouches down, picking up a small pebble and idly tracing a line in the dirt beside your foot, his voice a low, steady rumble.*

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