Something wild calls me home

Maea

And I hope that you don't suffer
But take the pain

Eyes pale as the mist followed the movements of the girl, from the moment she came into view until she tipped over with a squawk that echoed through the silent woods. A preternatural stillness lay over her, as though she had learned the art of silencing both heartbeat and breath and knew intimately the flow of petrified blood through marble limbs. Maybe it was wariness, of this stranger who appeared where no others chose to walk. Maybe she was just surprised, taken aback by the flood of nervous ramblings that cut the stillness into ribbons. It wasn't often she came across anyone who resembled herr younger self so much, after all.

"Hello, Theea," came a quiet reply, once the girl got that far. Withdrawing her hand from the pool, clear droplets clung to pale fingertips like moisture she'd from icicles; like the fair-skinned woman was a second a way from melting into the mist and disappearing. Contemplating whether she should comment on the spilled water or the remark about the waterfall and its ability to draw in visitors, silence extended, growing poignant and taking on a life of its own. "... I startled you. My bad." She smiled; a fleeting thing, there and gone like a will-o-wisp, leaving only an afterimage of something warm and soft, lost to the mist.

Hope if everybody runs
You choose to stay