She spent her time running from the beast that would not let her think in peace. She learned to forget the freedom of normal play and spent her day praying there would be no need for hide and seek. She never wanted it to come down to a child's game. She had lost the child, buried her deep inside, protected her from the elements and in moments of insanity- from herself. There was no break in her stride as she jumped over rock and fallen tree. The tall dark forest around her was no longer a mystery and she knew when the rain came, where to hide. She knew how to stay dry and the weight of water on her soul. In this time of her life, water was not refreshing. Little magic of the world brought magic into her life, but the peace and light remained inside her, somehow, allowing her to fly and never truly touch the ground. She lived in fear. She lived in lies, telling herself daily that everything was fine but knowing she'd never be returning to any peace of mind with the beast constantly a stone's throw behind.
Creating distractions became second hand to her. She would wait for the beast to come near and before there was a chance for terror to strike, she would distract the demons with delights for the mind- quickly escaping just in time before the beast would pay a second mind to what was really happening. As many who have gone before had told her in many different forms, your lone enemy is also your lone friend and over time she grew to love the beast. There was already some form of connection between them, though, the lines of communication were not easily found, and rarely if ever truly seen.
Once when she went to bathe, full from found berries and hidden roots, she saw the beast down by the stream-crying. She had never seen the beast cry. She did not think a beast was capable of crying. Upon closer examination, as she rarely ever came within true proximity of the creature, she noticed the truth and pain in the beasts now swollen and raining eyes. Her heartbeat moved upwards into her head- situating itself between her eyebrows and then plummeted down into her stomach. The beast looked at her and with pain nearly blinding the contact, they met eyes. She left quickly, and gracefully slid back into the stillness and climbed her tree for the evening-making sure to pack the dirt extra tight around the trunk.
As she lied in the crevice between the center bow and the trunk her thoughts took a different turn. She was not wondering about her morning path, or the distance between her and the beast. She knew where the beast would lie for the night and did not wonder even if the beast had had a full meal. These things, though mundane were key to her survival. The beast was quick. No, tonight she did not think about these things. She thought only about the dirt beneath the beast's feet where the tears had fallen. Is it not the same dirt that is under my feet? Does it not scatter pain evenly? Are they not tears? Do tears come from the same place of pain? She stopped herself, knowing the ailment of the beast would never be something she could understand for they have and would always be two very different animals. Yet, she could not help but wonder if there really was something almost human plaguing her every move. And, would this change things? Kissing the heavens she rested her eyes for the night.
