"Nature changes. Time passes. Strength grows and bones stretch. Living is hard."

The air is often still in this place, and the sunlight always similar. Small flecks of dust and matter descend from the sunbeams, and there is often a chatter of a crow amongst the birches. Dappled light dances across the forest floor and over the often still pond. The Forest, almost too perfect to believe, reflects an idea, a sanctuary; home. Between the trees and shadows lie small flecks of blood and tear stained stones. Between the grasses are worn away paths that led to poor choices, regrets and heartache. To a newcomer, the forest is endless and the warm birch grasses curl and caress as they nap in the summer time sun. To one who grew and fledged beyond their time and years, it is a cage and the roots of the trees bind them against their will. The forest has borders, cracks and unlike its endless concept, its boundaries were in view. It had defined them for so long. Every choice and meeting, every friend, love, kiss, tear, battle, birth, tale; life. Beyond that forest, greater forces had long been in play. Weathered by growth and time, like all things – it was time to move on.



























They arrived, each and all of their differences at various points in a significant time and their experiences seemed to mirror a greater power or force. So once again, unbeknownst to the four – they met in a similar place under an old oak tree towards what was understood as the edge. They all carried a rune above their heads as all the others in the forest. They however, knew their identity was defined well beyond it. Each looked to the other and dipped their heads in respect, in another time and place they were all unified as one – and perhaps they still were. The feathered ones gaze was weary – she had seen this ending many times before, although this time she knew it would be final. Ravenflight was always subject to be a martyr, not for her own story, but for a greater forces change; a creators? The others were younger, perhaps they were born from the feathered ones changes?
Words were not exchanged in that small moment, the small band of cervine looking back on the forest below. The eldest one smiled and sat for a moment, inviting the younger girls to join. Sterre sat beside Ravenflight comfortably; Vasana and Jezabelle were reluctant to join. Soon all sat by the forest edge, reflecting.





























Had there been another watching from afar, what was witnessed would be mundane – as the four slowly lowered their heads on each other to fall to sleep. Beyond what was seen, far greater forces were at play.

Our characters are often special to us, perhaps some more than others. In the characters we create, we project parts of ourselves. At times it is healing, at times it is damaging. From within ourselves we give a muse, a feeling; a thought a tangible form. We grow, we change, we regret, we desire, we battle; birth and death, these characters become subject to it all. Perhaps in time you will come to reflect on that and smile. Perhaps it becomes a large part of our lives for some – an escape for others, and sometimes, like a fledgling bird we gain the ability to fly and see beyond the ground that lies ahead. On the path that is sometimes trod, we know we can no longer return nor reclaim a time that was once so special.

Acceptance.





































When the characters awoke, the chatter of crows, flecks of dust, light and shadow trees and pond had changed. They no longer walked a hall of mirrors, where boundaries were given the impression of being infinity – reflected endlessly. For the forest, they had moved on. Always to exist within that greater forces heart – the force that drove them, the one they would never understand.
They stood in a new realm, one of infinite possibilities, for life had changed again.

And isn’t that exciting.