The one word prompts continue.

. . .

Happiest

. . .

Raven poked at the dying coals leftover from last night's fire and tried to decide whether she should get it going again or just move on from here. Birds twittered in the redwood canopy above her and for some reason it amplified her loneliness. All her books lay forgotten inside her one man tent. She hadn't felt like reading in days.

They'd been disbanded for just over three weeks, but already it felt like a lifetime of solitude was stretching out before her.

At first she'd thought that now was the perfect time for a soul-searching backpacking sabbatical while she figured out what to do next with her life, but she had reached an internal brick wall very soon after her departure from Jump. The others had it all figured out. Cyborg had immediately been elected to lead another team in another city. Good for him. Robin and Starfire had all but eloped and were trying their hand at the whole 'dynamic duo' thing. Good for them. Beast Boy had gone solo off the map somewhere in South America. Good for him. Truly; she was happy for them. But in the face of their certainty, Raven felt all the more lost.

The coals crackled while she turned her mirror over and over in her hands. This past year she'd felt herself growing out of it. She hadn't needed the mirror all that much as of late, preferring to sort out her own emotions in this reality before resorting to the metaphysical level for assistance. But her emotions were difficult to decipher when she was stuck so hard on the past.

Why was she so stuck?

Some of the saddest times of her life had happened while she was playing hero. The end of the world. The betrayal of an ally. The death of a friend. These things considered, it made sense to take a break from that lifestyle while she sorted out what she wanted for her future. Yet... being a hero had provided the happiest times of her life as well. She smiled and set her mirror aside. The happiest times were not so few that she could list them off in the same manner. But what did it all mean? Did it mean that she missed being a hero, or was there something else altogether which eluded her?

One of the twittering birds swooped down from the canopy and skipped across the log where she sat, lingering on the handle of her mirror to inspect its reflection. It chirped at her once before taking flight.

Raven sighed, and rose to gather more firewood so she could make breakfast. Maybe she did miss being a hero. Here in the forest she could admit to herself that a part of her needed the praise, the assurance that she was doing good things. She missed knowing her place in the world. But even more so, she missed her friends. She had grown too dependent on them in their years together, and that meant she would have to learn how to be alone all over again if she ever wanted to be happy.

But as she stoked the fire, she recalled the shiniest golden hours with her friends and tried to remember if she had ever been as happy on her own as with someone by her side.

In the end she dug her communicator from the bottom of her pack and reclaimed her seat on the log. Small orange flames reflected on the screen as she scrolled through the list of names. Who to call when she felt this alone? As she debated, some relevant words of comfort came back to her from years ago, when she had been lifted back up from the lowest of lows. She knew who to call.

"Raven?" When his face glitched into focus he seemed shocked to see her. For a moment she just drank in his voice and his face, the beloved familiarity of it all. She hadn't seen or spoken to any of her friends since they parted ways nearly a month ago. "You okay?" he wondered, leaning in closer to his communicator.

"Yeah." She was surprised to find herself choked up. "I'm just…" Honesty or no honesty? "A little lonely," she confessed.

His face fell, but quickly brightened again. "Miss me that much, huh?"

That helped her sober up. She wrinkled her nose, trying not to throw her communicator. "Don't test me. I will hang up."

"I miss you too," he chittered on, unphased. "It's been weird being alone after being on a team for so long. It's an adventure, don't get me wrong, but I'm not sure I'm cut out for this whole 'solo' thing. How's the sabbatical going?"

"Too quiet," she said. "I never thought I'd grow weary of introspection but, well, here we are."

"You know," he said, after a moment of serious contemplation. "You could always come visit me. I'm in Brazil right now weeding out some drug lords. There's a few I'm having trouble with and I would honestly appreciate the help. It doesn't exactly compare to a relaxing sabbatical, I know, but-"

"Okay."

"Wait, really? Just like that?"

"Sure," she shrugged. "I can help with that."

After disconnecting, she packed her bag slowly, savoring for the first time in days the breathing of the forest. She felt completely rejuvenated. As she shouldered her pack she sensed the path changing ahead of her. Good.

She smiled, realizing that the happiest she'd ever felt alone were the times when she trusted that she wasn't alone at all. Not even here, a hundred miles from civilization, kept company only by birds and squirrels and streams, by moss and fungus and towering redwoods that had grown old for centuries, braiding their roots beneath the riverbed until the whole forest breathed as one. Not even here.

Next OWP: stalked