a/n [Three of five. Johanna for Rowan.]
On bright, happy days, way back when shadows lurking in the darkness didn't threaten to jump out, a lone girl would reach up to the treetops, clouds, sky. Her day would be spent in forests, riding fallen logs held on shoulders of strong men as they carried their prize from the trees to the mills. In a small way, the girl would feel like she'd made a difference, but if it weren't for her tales she told to entertain the men, they would've left her in the forest, waiting for her father to walk her back home.
Some days, she gets lost. Out in the woods, surrounded by trees and sky and trees, it's not that hard, but if she wasn't trying to lose her way, she'd memorize the path as she walked, like she was taught to, and she's wander back home at just the right time without anyone noticing her absence. But there's serenity to being lost, and the girl craved that feeling. When there was nothing left but raw nature and bird songs and the crystal sky and herself, so small and naïve, trapped in the center of it all. She wouldn't trade it for the moon.