take off your skin

Any other child in her predicament would've likely been overwhelmed by sadness, by loneliness, even by anger -- it was hard to not to feel hateful when one's father had been taken as a prisoner. He had left them in the midst of spring, and now winter was fully upon them, and no word had been given. But Ara would not brood for too long on her or her family's misfortunes, but instead she would delve into her chosen profession with all the diligence a girl who was still child could muster.

But the winter was frustrating for the young healer, and she found herself quickly frustrated; not by her father's disappearance, as would be expected, but at the lack of fresh herbs and her own insufficient knowledge. It seemed the meadows and fields had retained little plant life upon winter's arrival, and so she set her sights elsewhere -- to the forests, which she knew were thick with vegetation and life, at least in the spring and summer months. It seemed a reasonable guess, and so she would find the darkness of the woodlands and redirect herself toward the treeline.

As she drew near, the air grew humid and thick with fog that she had not noticed before. The humidity made the air all that much more bitter, and she found herself drawing her head closer to her chest as she walked, her stance guarded and careful. Ara had learned quickly that gathering herbs could be dangerous -- it took her to places like this. The landscape would change as the treeline grew thicker, the flat terrain changing as roots seemed to spring out of the earth all around her, lined with thick moss despite the season. The girl hardly even noticed the presence of another before it was too late to ignore it, and she would swivel around to face the man that stood no more than a few yards away. Silence would reign supreme as she stood, quite uncertain in her stance, unsure what kind of creature he might be.