Fern

Lonely and afraid, Fern wandered throughout the forest, searching for a home. Home, something that sounded so close and yet... so far. The jungle was dangerous at night. Howling wolves, prowling jaguars... And a young Fae was a perfect target. Fern bounded through the forest. Her wing was bent and broken, and the jaguar was close behind, stalking her, clocking her, and worst of all, hunting her. Fern tried and tried to get into the trees, hoping, praying that cats could not smell her up in the highest part of the jungle. One branch, one chance. Otherwise, she was meat. Scrambling and searching for a branch low enough to jump onto, Fern looked around. There! There it was, a tiny branch, to small for a cat to grab hold of. Certainly thick enough for a tiny Fae to grab onto. Now at a full speed, Fern launched herself towards the branch, hoping for the best. Her tiny claws hit the branch, and latched on immediately. Fern scrambled up and up and up into the tree, never looking down, not once. Only once she reached the tippy top of the tree did she look down. There it was. The hungry jaguar, stalking around the tree for a scent.

The cat finally relented and left, much to fern's relief. She could finally relax. Or could she? Looking around, Fern was stunned by the view. On the highest tree in the forest, there she was, staring at the moon like it was staring back at her. For an hour, the two seemed to gaze into each other, not blinking. Soon she fell asleep, letting the moonlight sink into her back, warming her wary body, keeping her safe until morning.

Waking up to the sun shining in her eyes, Fern blinked and blinked, unsure what to do next. It was not safe in the forest, but eating was certainly an issue. Rubbing her sore wing and wincing, a miracle happened. Not only did her wing no longer hurt, but it was healed, without a scratch on it. Now she was a little safer.

After climbing down from the tree, Fern foraged for food and searched for water. She soon came along an un-scented territory, with no dragons anywhere to be seen. Slowly, Fern sank her feet into the murk of the water. In this part of the forest, there was no sun to brighten the floor. There was only murky, dark swamp. Thoroughly enjoying the mud, Fern started playing with her surroundings. The moon seemed to have given her power beyond imagine. Searching through the swamp, Fern created clothing for herself. This was her new home, and she would do anything to stay there.

Epilogue

Every night, Fern climbs through the trees and the forest, in search of the moon. And every night, no matter the size of the moon, she sits in the tallest tree of the forest to reach to it, calling for guidance.


THE END.