Ficly

In a landscape

I drop down through the clouds and into the forest, my movement slow, almost suspended. The earth is coming up to meet me. My bare feet land softly on the forest floor. I take two breaths, inhaling my surroundings. It is daylight, and the pine trees are stretching up to the sun. I cast my eyes up to the sky to gauge their height and I am blinded. Rubbing my eyes to clear the spots that blur my vision, I look back down. Pine needles litter the charred earth. The trees here are bare in some areas, the victim of a fire. Blackened stumps and missing limbs dot the view in front of me. A flash of movement catches my eye. A wolf’s head peeks out from behind a tree and then disappears just as quickly.

They’re watching me.

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