Wild Berry Meadow ard alahlam

the song of the cicadas had not followed the path that satsu tread. she found that in her wandering, when she paused to take in the scenery or find a spot to drink and cool herself, she missed the crying hum.

she had discovered for herself a patch of meadow with an abundance of bushes. the thicker the strands of vine, the larger the thorns. yet their sweet smelling fruit drew her close; and it was here that she found respite, nibbling at the bitter, under-ripe fruits and feeling the darker pieces burst with sweetness on her tongue.

the dancer paused when she sensed eyes upon her - and then a familiar voice speaking.
as she turned to bristle towards the darkness, satsu forgot all about the tranquility of the meadow.

you? what are you doing here? but she knew, too, that this creature was a crafty little thing.