The Tangle [M] And roar beside the lions thinking how is it so easy

She couldn’t help herself. 

Away from the moors she stole in the dark of night, an overcast sky creating but a pale cast of muted grey light from where the moon hid beyond the clouds. I’m the tangle, she could get lost. Meander, sprint, and enjoy her folly. 

Through the labyrinth of brambles she careened, imagining in her head that perhaps she was a prize- and only those who could find her might be worthy of her. 

Suitors she hoped to find- but simultaneously she dreaded them. Her heart yearned for the careful songster she’d met along the seashore, and the gentle, quiet giant whose paws had been twice as large as hers. But the chances of finding either of them again? 

Not impossible. Simply improbable, and she could deal with that.