The Forager pushed aside saplings with her axe, taking slow steps, walking lightly to avoid the crackle of dried wood underfoot. Bird’s shrieked a cacophony in the branches above her, masking all but the loudest of noises in the forest. Still, it paid to be cautious; the troll clan would not welcome her presence here.
Toadstools for Robin and woodland greens for the dining room. Are you sensing a theme?
Nestled, cozy, ‘neath the fallen leaves Amidst the pinecone spiral’s spreading seeds Betwixt the twisted roots of this old tree Look close, and if you’re lucky, there I’ll be.
When my hands are occupied, my heart ceases its senseless bounding around and settles quietly for a while, like a puppy finally calmed.