I spent the winter of my 16th year adjusting to my new life managing the work in the mine. Everything was boring, dark and dirty, and utterly exhausting. Although I was by no means unaccustomed to manual labor, the tedious work of sifting through sediment and being sneered by those around me was like a pickaxe chipping away at my soul. Treating myself and family to the convenience of sandwiches from Char’s was becoming the highlight of my day—how much lower could I feel?

  However, it was the first year of reaching a new age where my father did not lecture me about the disadvantages of life, and I had spring to look forward to as the months dragged on, even if it felt like warmer weather would never arrive. I would still visit the forest on occasion, gather what I could find near the outskirts of the city, especially on my days off, and anticipated the slow melting of snow and the earth recovering from its sleepy hibernation.

  As I trudged down the familiar dirt path leading to the meadow, I didn’t know if I would see Sable or not since we usually met at random during the beginning of spring, but I felt desiring to return, imagining the warmth of the sun kissing my skin after spending nearly every day in the darkness. I breathed in the fresh scent of cedar and melting snow dripping from the tips of the plants, and saw a flash of wings overhead as a couple large birds flew through the trees. A sense of jealousy rose within my heart, wishing I had the ability to fly like a bird and be free to go where I wanted—like Sable.

  A sudden sensation of guilt overwhelmed me as I remembered my resentment towards Sable and his easy life as a Teragane and my rather aggressive attitude the last time we had met. I sighed, nearly tripped over a root, and felt determined to be kinder towards Sable, regardless of my envy.

  As I reached the edge of the forest and stepped into the clearing, I spotted Sable’s dark figure perched on a large boulder near the cliffside, and my heart suddenly fluttered as he spotted me emerging from the tree-line. His wings extended and he glided right over to me as I met him halfway in the meadow, and his expression was rather alarming as he began to instantly ramble about his eventful winter, as if he were waiting all season long to tell me about the Aging-Ritual.

  “And, look!” he shouted, and scrambled to pull up the pant leg of his trousers. Then, bouncing on one foot, he ripped off a leather boot, and revealed his ankle, pointing directly to a small flower tattoo etched within his brown skin.

  “Aw! It’s a little clover,” I said, feeling enamored by his relatively exciting behavior. “It’s so cute. But, why a flower?”

  “I—uh,” he mumbled as his eyes nervously shifted. He scratched at his head, ruffling his black hair that had grown down to his shoulders. “I don’t know.” I looked at him, realizing he had once again grown in height, and he no longer resembled a curious little boy, but was becoming rather manly—handsome, I feared.

  “Well, I think it’s brilliant,” I said, and I began bouncing in place as my heart only continued to flutter. “Actually, it’s amazing!”

  “Really? You think so?”

  “Of course, silly. It’s so dainty and cute—clovers are relatively useful flowers. Hey, maybe I should also get a tattoo of a flower.” Sable’s eyes suddenly widened and he smiled as he began putting his boot back on, kneeling in the grass. “Where did you get this tattoo? Did your religious leaders really agree to something different than the traditional triangle?”

  “No.” Sable shook his head and a quiet chuckle released from mouth as he adjusted his trousers near the top of his boots that sat near his ankle. “My friend who is training to become a Sage did it for me. But, it took awhile to convince him. I don’t think I will ever do that again.”

  “Aw, why not?” I tilted my head as Sable straightened up, slightly towering over me as he adjusted his black hair away from his eyes.

  Whoa—he’s getting tall.

  “I—uh.”

  “Afraid of getting caught by the Sage for being rebellious?” Sable’s eyes darted and his cheeks flushed a rosy color, and he began scratching his neck which was also obviously bothering him. A warm fuzzy feeling bounced within my stomach as I observed Sable’s reaction to my teasing. “What? Are there rules against getting flower tattoos?”

  “Uh.”

  “What are they gonna do? Cut your skin away to remove the ink? Burn you?”

  “I—uh.” Sable’s nervousness caused his wings to twitch, and I suddenly feared I had pushed too hard, not realizing what sort of punishment his people would inflict on a young boy receiving a random tattoo.

  “Don’t worry, your secret is safe with me. I’m not gonna tell anyone.” I grabbed his stiff arm and gave it a squeeze while turning my nose up at him. “I’m just teasing, anyway.”

  “Okay.” He somewhat relaxed, but a hint of nervousness still lingered within his eyes, and I suggested that we look for spring flowers, which allowed us both to move freely along the large meadow that we rarely explored to its full capacity. As I gathered the aromatic sweet violets I liked making tea with, Sable picked other flowers, and I told him which ones were toxic, and which ones were eatable, feeling grateful that I at least remembered that.

  “Which one would you choose for a tattoo?” he asked while placing each delicate flower into the small satchel I carried.

  “Maybe a snowdrop—or a lily, cause, you know, that’s like my name,” I said with a laugh.

  “There’s a flower called Lillie?”

  “Yeah, this one.” I held out the long stem of a plant that had little white bell shaped flowers in a staggering formation, a lily of the valley, as most called it.

  “I should’ve gotten that as my tattoo.” He spoke very quietly, as if he were expressing his thoughts as he reached out and took the flower, and brought it closer to his face as his crimson eyes narrowed while he closely inspected its shape. As my stomach felt warm and fuzzy and my cheeks flushed, Sable’s eyes slowly glanced past the flower, towards me, and a smile crept across his face. “Maybe I will ask for another tattoo.”

  “Don’t be silly.” I pushed my arm against his, and he slightly nudged me back, and we continued to walk across the clearing, picking flowers that we eventually separated into either useful for eating, or beautiful for braiding into crowns. Although I hadn’t brought anything to eat, we munched on the sweet violets and some spring grass that tasted like onions, and spent the rest of the afternoon in total tranquility and not a moment of envy rose within my heart.

  As I left the meadow, I noticed the moon past its half-phase, and the subject of meeting arrangements caused me to worry how I would be able to see Sable consistently due to my unpredictable work schedule. For what reason could I secure a day of freedom? I wasn’t religious, nor could I tell the truth about my desire to never work during certain moon phases. Convincing a man like Timbo was hardly a feat I desired to take on, but what else could I do?

  I wish it was as easy as convincing a friend to give me a flower tattoo. That would be easier than this!

  However, as I listened to the griping of the other workers in the mines, I paid close attention to Aro and Mira’s complaints about Menses causing them a rather difficult time, and a clever idea evolved in my mind.

  “Hey, Timbo,” I said one morning as our group walked towards our excavation site through the large cavern.

  “It’s Tim, to you,” he snarled, and moved quickly forward in attempt to avoid further conversation.

  “Tim, okay, I’m sorry,” I said after easily keeping up with his quick pace as I wedged between him and Aro, who glanced curiously over at me. “I wanted to request to have every full moon off for my rest day.” Tim bellowed a deep laugh, and Aro released a chuckle as we moved through the narrowing path as we exited the main cavern.

  “Listen,” I said while huffing loudly, determined to get what I needed. “I’d like to have every full moon—“

  “Why? Are you some kind of witch?” Tim sneered, and Aro chuckled again. “You need to perform some evil sacrifices, huh?” By now, Aro began to slow her pace, leaving me to attempt to keep up with Tim.

  “Yeah, Lillie? Are you a witch?” Jamie suddenly said as he wedged between Tim and me, and placed his hands around our backs. “Because if you are, I’ve got some people I need you to cast some spells on.”

  “Don’t encourage her, otherwise she’ll doom us all,” Tim retorted, and Jamie’s grin only widened as he repetitively clicked with his tongue.

  “No! I’m not a witch!” I shouted, and a sudden trembling noise echoed through the walls. I glanced around nervously, but Jamie’s hand upon my back tightened as he whispered it was a normal sound. I still had yet to grow accustomed to the horrifying rumble of the underground.

  “I only need a break on the full moon because of my Menses,” I claimed, speaking with a firm voice. The men glanced at each other, and then Tim quickly looked ahead while his wrinkled, dull face slightly reddened.

  “Don’t bother me with your woman-y problems,” he snarled, and I narrowed my eyes as I prepared to continue to defend my case.

  “Oh, I wouldn’t deny such a need for a woman,” Jamie spoke and he patted Tim’s back. Anger rose towards him for inserting himself so impetuously at a time of my desperation, but he cast a side glance at me while he raised his brows in repetition. “What would Taffy ever say if she found out you rejected the request of the special needs of a hard-working woman?”

  Suddenly, Tim’s thick neck twisted, and he glared at Jamie, who suddenly released his hands from our backs, and whistled as he stepped backwards.

  “Hey, David, wanna see who can dig the fastest today?” Jamie called as he disappeared behind, and I looked over at Tim who sighed heavily while David argued that Jamie would most definitely lose.

  “Fine, you can rest every full moon—if that’s what you need,” Tim grumbled as he adjusted his waist belt, causing the tools to clink together. “But don’t ever again talk to me about female stuff. If you need something, speak with Aro. Now, get to work.”

  “Thank you,” I said, feeling relieved that my request was finally approved. I glanced over my shoulder and observed Jamie elbowing David, who only rolled his eyes at the pestering behavior. Although his tendency to make everything into a joke often caused annoyances, for a moment, I was thankful for his well-timed and calculated response. Even if he was only having fun by irritating Tim, his ability to coy the grumpy man into obliging my request was quite beneficial for me. I didn’t know who Taffy was, but I was grateful for whatever influence she had over Tim, especially concerning the needs of the workers in the mine, and Jamie’s clever knowledge to use such an authority to help me achieve my goal. I spent the rest of the work day feeling slightly relieved that I would be able to meet with Sable still at least once a month.

  I woke up early on the day of the full moon feeling relieved that I had a set day for myself, and that I could visit Sable again and inform him about my need for a change. I slipped on a relatively clean green skirt and a blouse fresh from washing. I braided a few small strands of hair, weaving in wooden beads Jadis had once given me, and I walked into my mother’s room to fix my hair in front of the reflection glass over a small vanity.

  She was already up and busily working in the kitchen, my father working in the mines, and I hoped to avoid her as much as possible, but I had no mirror in my room, so I quickly fixed up my hair, suddenly feeling rather anxious as I spotted white strands around my brown hair. I looked closely at my skin, noticing the fading undertones, and I glanced down at my hands that were becoming calloused and rough. I blinked dramatically as I examined my changing features, then, in the corner of the mirror, I saw my mother appear from behind.

  “Oh, are you free today?” she asked as she drifted into the room, and began also fixing up her hair that had gone nearly all gray with only a few strands of brown left.

  “No. I am busy,” I replied, and she scowled for a moment, but then noticed how wrinkled her face became upon making such an expression.

  “Busy with what? Last time you were off, you came home smelling like onions. Why didn’t you bring any home?”

  “I will if I find some again.” My mother huffed as she smoothed her cheeks with her fingers, and I glanced at my hair once again. “Does—does it look like my hair is turning white?” While running my fingers through my loose hair that came down to my chest, my mother slowly turned her nose up at me, and examined the strands while allowing a smile to creep across her face.

  “It does,” she mocked, her voice shrill. “You’re turning into an old lady.”

  “That doesn’t make me feel better,” I mumbled, and moved my hair behind my shoulders, flicking the strands that at least felt soft.

  “Soon, people will think you’re the mother and I the daughter!” She laughed while shaking her head, allowing her braided hair to sway, and I left her room feeling achy all over, as if she had simply stabbed my heart with a knife and laughed as I winced in pain.

  No matter how hard I tried to avoid listening to her hurtful words by building walls up against her, it was as if she could break down any blockade and still pierce through me with little effort. No wall was thick enough from the knives she only seemed to sharpen in my absence. Never could I escape my mother’s cruelty, even if it were as simple as taking every opportunity to put me under her foot like a floor mat to wipe her boots upon.

  I went into the kitchen to find something to bring for Sable and I to eat, burying my pain by numbing myself from it all. I grabbed a few little quiches my mother had most likely made for entertaining her friends, and carefully wrapped it all in a napkin and packed it into my basket before my mother returned to the kitchen. I placed the blanket inside as well, and wrapped my old, ratty cloak around my shoulders, and rummaged through my drawers in attempt to find a scarf, for the winds were still strong.

  I spotted an old crimson scarf, and a sudden flashback of a weird dream I had flooded my mind as I thought about its distinct color—like Sable’s eyes—like rubies—like blood.

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  While the soft fibers of the crimson scarf warmed my neck, I passed through the stifling city streets, anticipating the relief of the forest tranquility, and—mostly—seeing Sable once again. Upon moving through the abandoned archway, I felt that sweet sensation energize my body, pushing away the lingering emotions of hurt inflicted earlier that morning, and everything else I had to bury during the weeks.

  I wish I could just live in the forest. Then I could always feel this peace, right?

  As I trudged along the path, I breathed in the surrounding scents of cedar and dewdrops from a light drizzle, and my eyes lifted as I tilted my head back while I breathed in the energizing air.

  A group of ravens caught my attention, although less alarming since it was becoming a familiar occurence, and I wondered if the desire for wings would always linger upon my mind. Yet, as I watched a couple squirrels chase each other up the red bark of cedar, I wondered if it was simply the desire to have the freedom of movability within an environment.

  As I slowly moved through the forest, I watched the ravens fly from one branch to the next, following me along as they kept looking at me intently with their lidless black eyes.

  “Do you like living in the trees?” I asked out loud, hoping to only further connect with the mysterious creatures. “Do you think a Tamarine could join you up there?”

  Suddenly, I heard the snapping of a stick further ahead, and I halted my steps. My heart beat fast as I realized it felt as if I was not the only large creature in the woods, and I cautiously looked around the dense trees of large cedars, ferns, and vibrantly green moss.

  I heard a whimper, and suddenly the ravens flew directly above me, moving lowly through the trees. My heart raced as I felt drawn to follow, and I stepped off the beaten path and pushed through the foliage. I climbed a mossy elevated area, and upon reaching the highest point, I observed a rather peculiar scene.

  The group of ravens encircled a large, black wolf that lay upon the mossy ground, whimpering as it licked a wounded paw. I slowly approached it, and the ravens began to land next to the beast, and it turned its large head, facing me—its glowing red eyes sending a shiver down my spine.

  “It’s okay. I only want to help you,” I said as it lifted its head while sniffing the air. The front paw had been licked raw, but blood still oozed from a deep wound. A raven hopped over to its side, as if it was communicating to the wolf that I was someone to trust. I knew that the wolf could survive its injury after proper healing, but felt desiring to help it along its way, hoping that it could rejoin its wolf pack who perhaps left it behind.

  The poor creature—no one should suffer alone.

  I searched the surrounding foliage for the medicinal plants to fight infection and stop bleeding, and I quickly plucked the long broad and feather leaves. The wolf panted heavily, still whimpering, and the rustling of feathers of the ravens echoed through the forest as they all anticipated my movements.

  “The forest has provided healing,” I spoke softly to the wolf while kneeling in front of its paw. Its red eyes stared at me, and I wondered how stupid I was for actually tending to a predator’s injury. I half expected it to snarl or snap at me with its fatal jaw, but it only watched as it panted with its long tongue slightly to the side. I placed the leaves in my mouth, chewing to break down its stiffness, and spit it out in my hand, and I layered it upon the wound. The wolf flinched for a moment, but the raven nearby hopped closer, twisting its black beak erratically like birds often do.

  It made a throaty noise one could call demonic, but it appeared to ease the wolf as I pressed the leaves against the wound without further hesitation. Its paw was twice the size of my hand, and I wondered how it could have received such a wound. I unraveled the crimson scarf from my neck, and then wrapped its paw in efforts to keep the leaves on for as long as possible.

  “You can have this,” I said with a smile. “I have plenty of other scarves. You need it more than me.”

  I stood up and the wolf also rose to its feet, holding its wrapped paw in a bent position. The flashback of my dream came to mind as the wolf hobbled away, and for a moment I felt utterly shocked that I had a type of premonition that had no other definition other than—magical. I watched the wolf disappear over the mossy hill, and the ravens followed it from above, and a new sense of peace overwhelmed my beating heart, allowing me to feel ever so connected to the forest and those who inhabited it. Last time, I couldn’t save the wounded deer. But, this time, I was given the opportunity to help the wounded beast.

  As I wiped my hands against my cloak, I heard the sound of branches creaking, and I lifted my eyes, expecting to see squirrels, more ravens, or something other than what was lurking from above.

  A pair of apex eyes of a shrilling, icy nature glowed in the darkness from high above the canopy of the cedar tree branches. But, then, they suddenly disappeared, and I no longer felt safe within the forest.

  I dashed over the mossy hill and returned to the path while occasionally glancing above, afraid those eyes would reappear, or, worse, be attacked from some unknown predator lurking from above—perhaps the source of which attacked the wolf—maybe something that was anticipating consuming its flesh.

  Perhaps the forest isn’t as friendly to live in as I thought.

  Once again, I experienced the highs and lows of drastic changes of emotions, and the sinking sensation of anxiety overwhelmed my mind as I hurriedly passed through the forest, sweat profusely pouring from my skin. I entered the meadow in a flustered manner, and panted heavily after clearing the overbearing trees, and wiped the sweat beading upon my brows.

  “Hello, Lillie,” I heard Sable greet me as I tried recovering my breath. He had flown to my side, and folded his hands and wings behind his back, tilting his head. “You okay?”

  “Hi there,” I said, and sighed heavily as I straightened up and wiped my face again with my cloak.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice deep and no longer cracking.

  “Oh, I just—well, I saw a wolf,” I said and began walking towards the center of the meadow.

  “Did the wolf harm you?” he asked while he reached his hand out while I unfolded the blanket, and he grabbed the ends, helping me lay it upon the ground.

  “No, it was hurt, and I helped tend to its wound. But, that’s not why I was breathing so heavily.”

  “Really?” Sable and I kneeled upon the blanket, and I opened the wicker basket, and grabbed the still warm quiches wrapped in a napkin.

  “Yeah, I think there was something else. It felt as if I was being watched. I was kind of scared, but now I’m curious what it was. I don’t know. The forest is quite amazing sometimes.”

  “Sounds terrifying. Maybe it was only a bird.” I shrugged as I unraveled the napkin, revealing the egg and mushroom quiches, causing Sable’s eyes to bulge and he grinned. I gave him two, and ate one myself, but, after he devoured it with usual eagerness, I allowed him the final quiche.

  “You always make the best food,” he said while licking his lips, and I laughed, but didn’t feel like explaining that I rarely cooked anymore, and relied heavily on visiting the butcher or sneaking food whenever my mother prepared to have company. Since I had started making a consistent wage, I noticed she was hosting more meals with her friends, utilizing the extra money to spoil others—or was it simply to impress them?

  Regardless, I also liked impressing Sable, even if I hardly needed to lift a finger to do so.

  I asked him questions about his time up on the mountain, in which he repeated the same, old narrative of flying down in the mornings to fish, drink from the river, and observe nature, and then fly back up before the sun settled behind the ridges of the mountain. If there was more to his life, it was difficult to decipher, but as he lay upon his side, expecting for me to carry on the main conversation, I glanced over at the cedar trees again, wondering about all the animals I had observed over the years.

  I thought about my connection with the animals, the peaceful sensations, yet the fearful outcome of the shrilling, icy eyes. When I had discovered the dying deer, I had observed other eyes watching me. Were they predators? Guardians of the forest? Gremlins?

  As the unknown swirled within my mind, I thought about the darkness of my life, the hurtful words of the people surrounding me, and the never ending responsibilities weighing me down, even well after I had begun a new chapter in my life. No matter how much money I could make, new problems were arising, and the swaying, dark branches of the cedar trees began to feel more enticing than what lay deep within the forest I felt inevitably enslaved to.

  “I wish to live in the trees,” I mumbled to myself. I didn’t think Sable heard me, but I saw his eyes glance over at me, looking at my hands in my lap.

  “Why? What is in the trees?” he asked quietly, the deepness in his voice ever so obvious.

  “It is not what is in the trees, but rather the view I long for from up in the trees,” I replied, thinking how convenient it would be to observe other creatures from the branches—like the higher levels of Cedrus City—how much easier my life would be if only I weren’t so low-born in society.

  “This is a great view.” Sable turned his head as he leaned into a sitting position, casting his red eyes towards the cliffside, observing the deep valleys I knew that he had the privilege to view from his aerial whims.

  “It is all so far away. The trees are here.” Feeling conflicted by my never ending problems, I stood up and walked to the cedar forest, truly wondering if a rise in position would make my life better. I walked straight to the base of a cedar noticing its intricate lapping bark, strong red hues, and the fresh smell of its needles. The branches were far too high for me to reach, but I only wanted to climb it and perch upon the limbs, like the ravens, or climb its bark like the squirrels, and I spread my arms across the trunk and hugged it tenderly.

  “It just fills me with happiness,” I said. “I can almost imagine the tree having a heartbeat. I can nearly hear it…”

  “You’re so silly,” Sable said after he had followed me and spoke in apathetic tone as he pressed his hand against the bark of the tree.

  Like a bolt of lightning striking my already kindled heart, a flush of heated anger rose to my cheeks as I spun around, facing Sable who loomed over me, his arm stretched out as his hand rested over my head.

  “Why? Why is it silly for me to be happy hugging a tree?”

  “It’s just a tree.” His crimson eyes darted as his lips parted.

  “Yeah? And? It’s just a meadow. It’s just a mountain. It’s just another thing in our world that exists!”

  As my breathing grew heavy, Sable stepped backwards as he dropped his hand to his side, and his wings slightly twitched. I spun around and gripped the deep crevasses with my fingers, and I began climbing the tree, completely fueled by a ferocious beast laying deep within my heart as each exploding emotion came to mind. I was sick of it all, and I thought for a moment that being taller than him—having the higher ground over everyone else—would finally give me a sense of control of my life.

  “I just want to climb this tree and be happy!” I yelled as I pushed the edge of my shoe into the bark, and fumbled my fingers through the crevasses just above my head. I heard Sable call out for me as I surprisingly gained elevation, but the guilt of yelling at him began to take its toll. However, I didn’t know what else to do—not while my mind raged like a storm, blinding me by fury alone.

  I ignored Sable’s cries, but suddenly heard the sound of his flapping wings, and my foot suddenly slipped, and the bark under my left hand broke away, causing me to fall backwards.

  Acceptance of my self-inflicted pain that would happen upon impact allowed me to close my eyes, for I had no one to blame but myself and the unchecked rage within my soul. Yet, the impact upon my back was soft, and I realized that Sable caught me mid-air, but we continued to plummet backwards, and we fell to the ground with a loud thud. When my body landed on top of him, he gasped, and the sound of something breaking caused a new fear to surge through my unaffected body.

  “Sable!” I shouted while spinning off his chest. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

  “I’m fine,” he lied through clenched teeth, and wheezed heavily as he leaned forward, attempting to regain control over his breathing.

  “You don’t look fine. Oh! I’m so sorry.” Tears welled into my eyes as he stood up, and his ruffled wings vibrated, causing sticks and dirt to toss aside.

  “I’m fine, really.”

  “Sable, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be so stupid.”

  “Hey, it’s okay. You’re not being stupid. I’m fine. It’s not my first time falling like that. Nothing is broken.” I reached out to his wings and stroked my fingers through the feathers, picking out the bits of twigs and dirt, and noticed a rather large stick that had snapped underneath him from the fall, and felt thankfully nothing else seemed damaged—only a few bent feathers. I had never intentionally touched his wings before, and I noticed in the sunlight, the raven-like feathers appeared glistening with purple undertones.

  As Sable continued to assure me that he was perfectly fine, I still observed him closely as we walked back to the idle blanket in the middle of the meadow. However, after another fluttering of his wings to displace any other ruffled feathers, he stretched his arms out, arching his back slightly, but then shook it all off as we sat down quietly.

  Silence fell between us, and the ever increasing sensation of guilt rose within my throat, but the buried emotions that had caused me to react so recklessly still lingered in the back of my mind as humiliation prevented me from looking at Sable. I picked at the tips of my fingernails, noticing the residual dirt from the work in the mine, accepting that my fingers would never be entirely clean, no matter how much I scrubbed. The scars beginning to settle upon my skin reminded me of my father’s calloused hands, and the strands of white hair were only commemorative of the transformation of my fading youth. Although I was growing up like anyone naturally does, I felt like I had already long ago, skipping over any sense of childhood, regardless of my real age. Climbing a tree to overcome the feeling of being underfoot was a childish concept, and the shame it caused made me want to fully fade away while in Sable’s presence.

  “Lillie,” Sable said, his voice deep and soft, like the warmth of a breeze blowing through the grass. “I think you deserve to be happy.”

  While my neck pricked with intense pain, I forced a smile, wondering what it would be like to be happy. His words were kind, but they meant nothing to me—not while shame and guilt overran my mind, however, in reality, the voices of those demeaning me unworthy were louder than his kind assurances. I did not feel like I deserved anything in life except a destiny of misery as was proclaimed by everyone around me.

  “If living in a tree would make you happy, then I would visit you in the trees,” he continued, and a tear finally escaped, trickling down my cheek, but I still felt paralyzed, and began to only think about the deepening of his voice. I recalled when we had first met his voice was higher pitched, like most boys. Last year it cracked quite often—now? It was scarcely recognizable as I kept my eyes down, wondering how someone like him could ever be so kind to someone like me.

  Why would he put himself in danger by letting me fall onto him? He should have just let me fall…

  I hated being the cause of the stifling atmosphere, an occurence happening more often than I desired as the burdens of reality continued to weigh me down, even when I tried escaping it while visiting Sable in the meadow. Feeling as if I couldn’t stand another moment of discomfort with the one person I wished only the greatest of happiness, I began to fold the empty napkins, indicating that I was ready to leave.

  Sable quickly moved to help fold the blanket, but I kept my eyes away, and neither of us uttered a word, yet I could sense his persistent gaze, like the ravens observing me in the tree branches. Yet, I felt like I was the injured wolf in the woods, waiting for someone to tend to my wounds.

  Except, no one could heal the deep wounds, and I truly felt alone and abandoned while those above me kept me underfoot, keeping me from ever healing or finding my way out of the darkness.

  That is where I belong. That was the system in which I am destined to stay in.

  “Sable,” I finally said after the leather straps were over my cloaked figure.

  “Yes, Lillie?” Sable replied with a slight tremble to his voice as he stood stiffly in front of me, his hands tensing at his side.

  “I cannot meet so often again. But, I will come to the meadow every full moon,” I announced, then slowly lifted my chin. Sable’s eyes slightly twitched, and he clenched his teeth, his lip slightly curving. “I have too much work, but I still want to come.”

  “Then I will see you every full moon,” Sable replied, steadying his voice this time, and lowering his snarl.

  “See you then.” I turned to leave, my body numb from all the unbearable emotions, but I suddenly felt his hand grab my arm as he uttered my name. Heat rose within my cold cheeks as he gently pulled me against his chest while smoothly moving his hands around my waist.

  Sable had never initiated a hug before. When we were younger, I often jumped to hug him, and he would simply pat my back, seemingly unaccustomed to affection. However, this hug was different, and the numbness of my body began to slowly dissipate as I felt as if I were melting into an affectionate embrace desperately desired by my quivering soul.

  My head fell directly under his chin, and for once I did not mind being shorter than him as I listened to the steady rhythm of his beating heart, and I moved my hands around his slim waist, feeling the softness of the woolen material of his cloak. His heart beat did not flutter, nor did it race—unlike mine. His was just a simple beat, singing a song of a steady beating drum. For a moment, I felt the lifting of a heavy burden.

  For the first time in my life, I felt safe in the arms of another.

  Afraid of being trapped in this rare embrace, enticing me to act recklessly once again, I quickly loosened my grip, and pushed away from Sable. Then, as if my heart could bear no more, Sable wiped a tear from his cheek, flicking his long lashes as he attempted to hold back further tears.

  Why is he crying? Why would he cry over me?

  I never saw him cry before, not even the slightest, except tears of joy from laughter after some silly antics.

  Yet, there he was, observing me not like a raven, but like a helpless person watches another doomed to a life of suffering, feeling incapable of knowing how to react.

  I couldn’t bear it anymore, and left with only a wave of my hand, too afraid to start crying as I rushed through the woods, hoping the sensation of numbness would return as I passed through the trail I imagined was a magical portal connecting me to the concept of happiness and the reality in which I lived.