It was further than she thought. She had traveled far and wide, relying on nothing but a compass for a reason she could not fathom. She had a home, somewhat, and it was sufficient. It provided her with what she required, and she was accepted; things were great. But the urge to discover a place unknown to her was far stronger than her desire to remain ( and she was madly desperate to stay in the familiarity ). Her body ached with the constant motion, but she could not stop, her feet maintained a steady peace even if she yearned for nothing but days of rest. Her mind was fogged, and the world felt like it mattered not.
Nothing, absolutely nothing, mattered except for her getting there.
Where it was, she knew not.
She could not explain the yearning, how she had a desperate need to arrive, how she followed the compass blindly, how she went through hell, just to get to a place she knew naught of. She thought she would never arrive. But she did. Somehow, she managed. It was to smoke that she approached, and she felt sick to the stomach at the very scent; life she saw, but it was death she took into her lungs. A village, full of people, bumbling along close to a forest – the forest where the compassed pointed north. She knew it was the destination even before she arrived; how the woods called to her.
They warned her. The woods was inhabited by some kind of a monster. Some form of a foul beast with fangs and claws meant for dismembering humans, but not one of them were wounded. Scared, perhaps, yet no signs of physical trauma did she observe. She would enter, no matter what. She could calm a beast, perhaps. But the compass told her to continue no matter what.
Thus she departed the village, giving thanks for the water and rest. Whatever drew her to the forest gave her endless questions, and she desired answers. She glimpsed first the towering trees, watching how they pierced the skies and wondered how far they went. Would she be able to climb to the top, and gaze upon the world? She grazed first the blooms, marveling at the colours and scents; but unwilling to pluck them to end their short lives. Beauty could simply be admired without possessing. The compass within her told her that she was home.
The forest, despite being so foreign, fell perfectly into place around her. She heard the trees sing, and the flutter of birds soaring to approach, yet stifled breathes and one soul stood out. To her chagrin, her peace was too short. Close, watching her every move. Yet she felt the power surge into her from the very ground she stood upon, booted feet a hindrance – nonetheless still she felt the heart of the forest thump as her own did. The forest told her she was home. It was a piece of her.
Pointed ears shifted into vision as tresses fluttered from the removal of obscuring hood and the woods sounded far clearer; but her attention was focused on the one who bared fangs and dug claws into her head. Chocolate met crimson.
"What on earth do you think you're doing, claiming my forest?"