#13 Rebellion
Seated in his favourite spot, high within the comforting security of the ancient oak's embrace the young elf sighed and turned his face to the stars. He knew that he must face his father at some point, that delaying the inevitable was only going to make matters much worse but still he lingered.
How could he not?
Out here in the forest was where he belonged. Out here he felt alive and free. In tune with the life and beauty that surrounded him. Here he could be at one with the great song of the forest, his own merging into its seamlessly, their harmonies intertwined until he could almost feel the stretch of the trees roots as they burrowed deep into the loamy ground beneath, taste the sweet sap as it rose to nourish each twig and leaf, bend like a branch under the breeze gently rifling through the canopy.
Yes, this was where he belonged. And this was where he would keep returning, no matter how many guards he had to outwit. No matter how many times his father cajoled, forbad and ordered. He belonged to the forest and nothing, or no one, was going to keep him away.
Thanks for all the reviews guys.
To Lord Illyren - here's a little more to expand on the closeness of certain elves to their trees :) Thanks for the lovely comments. I don't really know where the ideas come from they just pop into my mind. Usually at the strangest of times! :)