Finding Home
Finding Home stories
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miladylen
miladylenLen writes. Or tries to.
Autoplay OFF  •  a year ago
She’d known solitude all her life, a choice she’d gladly made when a choice had been given.

Finding Home

The snow fell heavily like cinders after the fire has died out, like the remaining droplets after the unending storm.

The air was damp, misty flakes sticking to a dark furred cloak in a coat of white, tenebrous hair hidden inside the hood, helping the figure meld into the scenery, disappear into the thick forest, the ivory crystals covering her tracks almost as soon as she’d step off.

As if she wasn’t there, as if she’d never been.

Deep into the woods she belonged like she’d been born to it.

To the rain’s delectable nectar, the birds’ lullaby, and the wind’s loving embrace.

Perhaps she had, perhaps only those dreams proved true.

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