raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens
She walks—no, floats—down the endless tunnel of a forest path. She feels lost, engulfed in the Dale’s surrounding guard that weeds out the unwilling, the lazy, the easily deterred. The forest builds itself in such a purposeful way, another wall to slow the pace of an enemy, another wall to block out the chaos which knocks at her door. They seem like happy forest dwellers, trolls or fae, planted in a strategical space.
This is why she walks—no, floats—because while the raging sun of hot energy in the Desert’s didn’t suit her fancy, perhaps the magic of the Dale might.
Her black body—ebony, moistened from a dip in the stream and shimmering from the rising sun—weaves in and out of charcoal tree trunks the width of lazy boy chairs and over top of fallen casualties (ahem, logs). Exemplary has an elegance to her air, a lightness to her step that makes even the biggest of hurdles seem like a meaningless twig.
On the outside, our flowing doe is a picture of flawlessness. On the inside, a consistent tremor of fear and longing.
bright copper kettles and warm wollen mittens.
She is gaining on the Dale entrance, the scent of an unknown smell lingering in the air. Her body tenses (as it always does) when she arrives on new turf. Just like as a child, a weanling, when she had stumbled upon the sandy surface of the Desert. Just like as an adult when she had meandered her way into the lush green of the meadow. She is a work in progress, a doll being sewn, a house still being blue-printed and planned. Our little doe has a fate, has a future, she just needs to solidify her own foundation of hope.
brown paper packages tied up with strings
She is here. Her petite frame staring at the clearing to the Dale like some portal to a better place, like the Dale is the future to her own discovery. Oh, little doe if only you knew. If only you knew that the kingdom isn’t what will make you, it is how well you serve her that will dictate your mark in history.
The forest clearing is like an arch, long willows opening up in a perfectly centered position with a mythical drape.
And she waits—no, she just breathes—until a wanderer welcomes her in.
these are a few of my favourite things.
Exemplary
I will be yours, and only yours, until the day I fade to black