It felt like home. Home was a deep, dark forest, where the sounds were swallowed by shadows and the trees grew gnarled but strong. Home was an ocean of dark green and the smell of oakmoss, galbanum, pine and earth. Cheska couldn't shake the nostalgia as it seeped through the cracks in her brain. She'd been raised in a forest not so unlike this one. The dark marks in her coat still evidenced every occasion that a branch had reached out to scratch her, every time she'd scraped along a patch of rough bark too hard.

Above, rain fell lightly and the clouds were dark. A soft fog was hovering over the ground. Birds sang far off, but filtered through the branches they sounded hollow and tinny. To another, this thicket could be oppressive or frightening, but Cheska found only relief in the privacy of the branches. The quiet left room to drain the excited anxiety of constant company. Now, her heart had settled into a familiar beat and her stomach stilled its grumbled disturbances.

Rain fell still through the gaps in trees, and she thought there may be thunder in the distance. Ah, thunder. How many cultures had woven beautiful stories about the grumble of the sky? Or the flash of lightning? Or the dark of the forest? She herself had in fact heard a tale once that every time a great soul was set to rest in her forest, a great tree would rise in his place. Each one cradled the soul of a warrior, a poet, a king... even a few particularly talented storytellers. It was for this reason that she'd stopped to touch her soft muzzle against each gash in the bark that she passed. Here, she could imagine the soul of a lost friend, there a valkyrie sister.
Fallada.
Cael.
Mira.
She bid them each a peaceful rest, let herself try to imagine what death might be like. She hoped it was a deep forest.

Something once again fluttered inside of her, and she was pulled from reverie to reality as if by a noose at her throat. Again, it came buzzing in her hooves and the tips of her ears, and if she didn't know any better, it would have felt like... Magic? Who'd trust you with magic? You got about as much sense as a hen's got teeth. She ignored the self deprecating instinct and tried to shake off the sensation of different that permeated her very bones. The idea that something had fundamentally changed within her was equal parts thrilling and terrifying. Perhaps she really had died. Or maybe it was simple jealousy. Everyone seemed so unique, and here she was, same as ever. It seemed wrong that she still be plain ole ordinary Cheska. They were a chain of gold, and she was the brass link. She fantasized that the forest, a stag with magic draped from every tine of its antlers, would share just a little of that magic with the mundane creature that stole through its depths like a shadow.

She wasn't one for sulking, and soon she'd let her frivolous fancy fly back to where it came from. She was back off at a steady pace, finding the gashes and touching her nose to them gently. She paused only when she could go no further, her trajectory stopped by a lovely pool glinting with shimmering jewels. Rather hoping that it wasn't some ancient religious site, she dared a sip at the cool, piney waters. She smiled as her eyes traced across the surface and up to the tip top of the mighty fir on the other side. The gems were beautiful, but the fir was breathtaking. She stared high up into its branches, a grin splitting her face as she found the minute movement of squirrels on a far bough.

Perhaps the magic was not hers, but it was all around her, and maybe that was enough.

count] 659
tags] @[Kvothe]
ooc]