A gust of wind brings the fragrance of a freshly baked pear tart out into the garden. It's an unremarkable piece of green grass, roses and winter pear trees surrounding a tiny brick house. For tens of kilometers in all directions there's only the thickest, leafiest forest you could imagine. Except a private high school. To the north it stretches all the way to the ever glacier on the Silvertop mountain. To the south, a row of grassy hills part the forest from the city.
