Emberwood go away somewhere all bright and new

there was a difference in being alone and being lonely. it was something she'd come to understand in her time alone, and this small nugget of knowledge, of understanding, she guarded carefully close to her chest. it rested there alongside things don't last forever, you can run faster than you think when something else is chasing you, and carrion doesn't quite taste as bad as it looks, most times. Fern had learned a lot those first few nights on the mainland, an island the size of which she could not fathom. the first night had been terrifying and cold and silent, and when morning came she wandered the shore while her eyes sought out the isle in the waves. she could not find it out there, but then again did not know what truly to look for, never having seen her home from afar. she sought the coast she'd seen the dim outline of on the isle, the one that had never really sparked much longing or interest while she'd been part of Undersea but now was fundemental to finding her way back. but the quest seemed impossible, especially when the coast on this massive isle seemed all very much the same, and purpose had turned gradually from finding her way home to survival. 

she missed seelie dearly, so much so that she saw her inky outline in all the forgein shadows. but as time went by the outline seemed less clear, growing fuzzy along the edges, so much so that the girl could no longer imagine what colour the sheepdogs eyes were, and it hurt. still, sometimes she was happy, when the sun shone across the blinding white and she discovered something new about the way the rays danced. and then there were times when hunger took hold and the temperature plummeted and her mind saw Mou in the pale shapes the twirling snow made. 

somehow, she hung delicately between the two states now, tugging at a bundle of feathers and fur caught on a spindly branch before releasing it and watching it soar upward and downward, bouncing. there was a kind of simple happiness in seeing just how high she could get it to go, and yet she wondered achingly what it would be like to have someone bat the bundle back to her insteady of the silent return swing of the branch. and she released it once more before it swung too high and caught beyond her reach, and she was left only with the apologetic creak of the branches as they stirred above her.