Jun. 20th, 2017

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The egg yolk sun peeks over the horizon, lighting the treetops with an orange morning glow. The forest is still nearly silent, the birds and other fauna still tucked away or resting under the warming sun. The woods' floor is dark and cold from the night, still lying in wait for the later day's hotter rays.
The tree-enclosed village begins to awaken with the morning sun, but one youngling has already left.

Ginger footsteps across dark and moist soil, the soft click-crunch of pine needles sighing on the forest floor. Chipmunks and robins don't scurry away, already aware that the tawny figure is one of them.
The being steps into a trickling river far from the village, the cold currents tickling their legs as they smile down. The sun is reflecting on the surface as it begins to slowly rise, the rest of the woods still dark and damp and sleeping.

The child sits down in the stream, playing with the water as it dances around their fingers. Small fish dart around warily. The cattails and river weeds are motionless, basking in the beginning of light.
The child looks over the horizon, past the twisting black tangle of morning trees on high. Far, far away there are unfamiliar shapes: sharp, square edges on tall, protruding structures. Even the sun dares not bring them to light.

They stare, unmoving, and the river dances in cool ribbons around them. The sun smiles down on their back. The fish zip around at their sides. The trees bend and twist like gentle arms.
But still they are curious. For as strange and beautiful as they think their forest home is,
humans would always be more dangerous and more intriguing.
They did not know it yet, but this curiosity would lead to the loves of their life
and to their downfalls.


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