Completely unexpectedly, Alec appears next to me and reaches for my hand. It clasps mine, slightly damp and cold. It is nice and reassuring, pleasant to know that I don't have to go home alone. The rain falls in thick drops on the earth. A gush of water, soft and cold on my skin. The ground beneath our feet is soaked with the masses of water falling from the clouds. Thick bubbles form on the wet carpet and I look fascinated at the picture that presents itself to me. Alec with dripping wet deep dark hair, single strands falling again and again into his beautiful face and his hand just can't tame the soft splendour.

I giggle because the situation we are in is so absurd. It's pouring down rain, it doesn't stop at all. With every step we take, I have the feeling that we are getting closer and closer to the centre of the water power. And instead of quickly looking for shelter like everyone else, we stroll leisurely through the park. With our hands clasped, a picnic basket under our arms and a blanket in our hands, without umbrellas and with soaked clothes. With every step, my shoes make a splashing sound. I have the feeling that all the water from the dark clouds above us has gathered in my shoes and is making itself comfortable there.

At the same time, the sight of a wet Alec reminds me of our meeting at Hunters Moon. And of the conversation that followed. I sigh and feel Alec increase the pressure on my hand. Suddenly the situation makes me uncomfortable. Under the pretext of brushing the water out of my hair and face, I withdraw from Alec's grip and bury my hands deep in my trouser pockets after finishing my task. I think hard about a suitable topic of conversation. The silence between us is stifling right now. At least for me.

"How did you come to give up meat altogether?", I ask. I don't know why this of all questions comes to mind. Maybe it's because of the small brown bird in front of us that quickly takes flight at the vibration of our footsteps. I feel Alec's gaze on me, but continue to look stubbornly straight ahead.

"I have a hunting license. All the men in the Lightwood family have hunting licences. My grandfather used to go to the mountains with his father and spend his weekends in a small forest cabin. Secluded from everyday life and the hustle and bustle. The nagging wife and the annoying children. That's what Dad used to tell us. So his father also went with him to this cabin in the woods. And at some point, I think Jace was twelve and I was ten, we packed our bags under the pretext of a camping trip. We were so excited and looking forward to a carefree time full of adventure. Surrounded by nature and wilderness and freedom. From then on we went to the forest cabin every year and Dad taught us everything we needed to know. When we were old enough, Jace and I got our hunting licences. Dad was mighty proud of us. But the relationship with him was more than difficult even then."

"Basically, it's very simple. I love nature. The forest and the trees. The smell of damp forest floor when it rained in the night. Fragrant deep green pine needles and the rays of the sun evaporating the water and dew. The morning fog that majestically wanders through the undergrowth, the fine formations of the spiders, their webs glittering in the light of the rising sun, the dew that lies feather-light over the landscape. Wood under my hands and at the end of the day having created a beautiful piece of new wood fills me with incredible joy. The singing of the birds, loud and shrill but beautiful. The crackling and cracking in the bushes and behind every tree a new adventure or hidden beauty. But killing an animal always made me nauseous. It wasn't a choice because it was hip or trendy. I felt it in my heart. I don't want an animal to give its life for me just so I can experience two minutes of happiness. I would rather enjoy the beauty of things. The fawn in the sunlit clearing, its ears pricked up to detect possible danger. The mountain lake at my feet, the mirror-smooth surface glistening and reflecting the rays of the large round fiery disc above me. Cold water, dark and mysterious. Giver of life and bearer of death. Freedom. That is what I would answer to the question of what fascinates me so much about it."

Alec's narratives are so vivid. His deep voice is insanely soothing and the love in his words is palpable. I feel it with all my senses, no longer able to go on. My legs no longer carry me. I stand rooted to the spot on this path in the middle of Central Park and listen spellbound to Alec's words. Occasional shadows flit past us. A mother with waving light hair, a crying toddler in her arms. No more than three years old with raven black hair, as black as Alec's. Protective from the chill of the waters, she hugs the little bundle of pure life to her chest and speaks soothingly to the crying boy. An older gentleman in a trench coat and hat, a large black umbrella in one hand and a bright pink dog leash in the other. A barking whirlwind, small, black, completely soaked.

"My mother was a prosecutor with heart and soul. Criminal law. She sent more bad guys to Sing Sing than I could count. Petty criminals who sold drugs in dark corners. Mafia bosses and their hit men wreaking havoc on the streets of New York." The words just bubble out of me.

"She loved her job and always fought for justice. They were against carrying a gun in public. Ragnor and my mum. 'Guns mean death. And death always means suffering and pain, tears and grief. One always suffers. And one never comes back.' I still remember the day my mum first spoke those words to me. Ragnor lost a spectacular case. The murderer went free, evading his just punishment because the lawyer bribed the judge. That was the day Ragnor left criminal law behind. He switched to inheritance law," I say breathlessly, only now realising that I spoke without pausing.

"I'm sure your mother wouldn't have liked me." Gently, I place my hand against his cheek. Alec closes his eyes and I hear him sigh softly.

"She would have loved you. The ground beneath your feet she would have adored and made us come over every Sunday for dinner. You're everything my mum always wanted for me", I reply softly.