It was a long, lonely walk out of the forest. It felt like forever until I was able to drag myself up to my feet, and out of my clearing. I had claimed it as my own. It was a safe-zone; my evacuation area. There, I’d found sanctuary.
Which was why it was so hard to come back. I wished I could sit in that clearing forever.
Patches of sunlight cut through the trees, and I was able to make out the ultraviolet rays. My skin tingled, my legs feeling heavy. I wished I would’ve been able to appreciate the scenery. It was lovely. All I could seem to focus on, however, was the only successful thing I had created. A mess.
I let out a groan before I could stop myself, stepping over a rotted log—not tripping over it this time. Again, I remembered when I had run away the first time and was hunted do
