Hushed Willows panacea

@Stjornuati

The willows draw her into the territory late in the night, a tranquil haven from the chaos she's spent the last several days fleeing. Something has been stalking her — an animal she's never seen or scented before, some nameless predator lurking just out of sight. It doesn't follow her beneath the willows, however. The respite is welcome, and so she lingers into the early morning hours, ignoring the prickle of discomfort that comes with treading over old scents of pack wolves. It's likely the reason the other predator left.
She wanders aimlessly under the ethereal curtain of drooping willows, exploring, ignoring the burning at the corners of her eyes that tells her she needs sleep. There's a magical feeling about this place. It keeps her on her feet, eyes wide and sparkling with wonder, drifting through the light morning mist like a forest spirit — one of the dryads, come out from her tree with flowers in her hair to dance the morning away.