You’ve never seen someone so lost look so sure.
Sure mind, sure movements. Not a guise, but a comfortability with the surroundings.
You hide in a crack of rock face, cowering, watching as she searches the shrubs sturdy branches in the trees below. You pray her eyes do not wander this high up.
You’re not certain she would try to hurt you… but you also don’t know that she wouldn’t.
She calls out, tries to lure you in. She doesn’t speak the same language, something more profound and brutish instead. You seem to understand it even without knowing the words.
You trace her figure, try to find something about her that might tell you she’s human in the same way you are. But she’s more forest than woman. Her clothes are thorny, tawny, thin and shredded, made of scraps from the environment. They seem less intentional than they do strains that have managed to gather on her skin. And all of it is wrapped in a swathe of locks of blonde hair. Thick enough to be used as rope. Long enough to touch her feet.
She calls out again.
You weren’t expecting it and let a rock slide.
It cackles as it falls down into a bush below.
For the first time, her natural flow has been halted. The lady of the forest is as still as the trees she admires. And then she falls… finding herself on legs of four… scampering towards the sound…
She hisses when she finds it, holds the rock tight, as if she might use it as pestle.
Then she howls… lowly… in a rumble…
Before she even looks up at you, she’s got a grin on her face.
Strange and eerie, with a good flow. Enjoyed this!
Oh, the grin says it all. Good one Daniel!