Slipping in my faith until I fall
The clearing felt different when he stepped back beneath the towering branches alone. Marcus had reached the Mathair first. The great trunk loomed above him, bark dark and ancient, its canopy burning with reds and golds that whispered faintly against one another high overhead. He paused a moment at the base of the roots, arms full of gathered things, and tipped his head back toward the leaves as if checking whether the deity within had noticed their efforts yet. Though, from the stories, he was sure he would know if or when she did. He knelt near one of the broad roots and set his collection down. The acorns rolled softly together, the berries glistening darkly in the dappled light. He arranged the leaves instinctively, their colors spreading like small flames against the bark.
Then he heard it, the unmistakable shuffle of hurried footsteps through brush. Marcus straightened just as Nova burst from the trees in a riot of autumn color. Turning towards her with a broad smile the young Olson brushed his hands off on the front of his jacket. She looked less like a person and more like the forest itself had stood up and started running—arms overflowing with leaves and petals, curls bouncing wildly behind the pile. The sight tugged another laugh out of him. “Nova!”
The word had barely left his mouth when her foot caught. Marcus saw it happen in the slow, terrible clarity of instinct. He moved before he thought. Two quick strides carried him forward, arms lifting as he reached for her shoulders through the avalanche of leaves. “Whoa — I got you.”
Then he heard it, the unmistakable shuffle of hurried footsteps through brush. Marcus straightened just as Nova burst from the trees in a riot of autumn color. Turning towards her with a broad smile the young Olson brushed his hands off on the front of his jacket. She looked less like a person and more like the forest itself had stood up and started running—arms overflowing with leaves and petals, curls bouncing wildly behind the pile. The sight tugged another laugh out of him. “Nova!”
The word had barely left his mouth when her foot caught. Marcus saw it happen in the slow, terrible clarity of instinct. He moved before he thought. Two quick strides carried him forward, arms lifting as he reached for her shoulders through the avalanche of leaves. “Whoa — I got you.”
Marcus
He never returned that call
