Dweller

Sarah saw herself as dweller of the swift water and green glen. She studied mood and atmosphere from the moss covered trees. They filtered light; letting it drape, silky and shimmering, across rock and buttercup. She yearned to learn the trees' secret for spinning gold. Sarah needed many threads to elevate her status. The sky, made of memory, was what she was after, and could not be corrupted by foul airs. But the sky knew Sarah better than she knew herself, and administered the proper dose of knowledge when she least expected it. In these ecstatic moments, the other novitiates of the forest, heads bowed and knees bent, emerged to claim what the land promised the meekest among them. Nourishment for the trials that would strip them of their will, and grant them passage to the timeless plain.