29 July 10 - 23:57The Horse
It was a warm spring day when she awoke. The forest had retreated in the time she had slept, now not more than a few bits of woods around a pretty meadow or two. An idea had tickled her mind as she slept, partially disturbed by a horse digging at the roots of her tree that winter, looking for food. Without waking, she sheltered them, the whole small herd, in her ancient glade. Yet now she was awake.Not many of her kind were left in the world, spirits from the dawn of time, but she did not care. The developments that ringed her bit of woods did not encroach upon her most sacred soil, the trees were safe, and so she did not notice. She watched the herd run in her meadow, houses unseen just beyond on all sides, and allowed her dream to make itself apparent. She built the idea one step at a time, then, near completion, she found the host she sought.
It was a dappled grey mare, the same that had made the ancient prayer to her roots, unknowing. ... (more)