Phoenix Maplewood surreal waltz

Soon, the river grew as familiar to Druid as any corner of Rivenwood and she found herself thirsting to discover more of the wilderness. Although this impulse surprised her a little, she remembered that her mother was a scout. Perhaps, despite her earlier notions, she was a wanderer at heart too, though she never intended to leave her home for long. Her feet might carry her other places, yet her heart would always remain in Rivenwood.

Today, she journeyed north, to the far wall of the bypass. She found a forest sprawling beyond it and roamed among the trees, bursting with the splendid colors of fall. “Red and orange for fall when the leaves blaze like fire,” Wylla had said. Many of those leaves crunched underfoot. Her left ankle remained bare today, Bracelet left to bask on a stone near Silverstream, so they could reunite as soon as Druid returned later in the day.

There was a curious smell in the air and Druid realized it was coming from the forest floor. She paused and sifted through the dry, furling leaves, drawing the sweet smell of rot into her lungs. Here was just one more reason to prefer autumn over summer. It stirred her excitement for the frosty blues of winter.