He was walking through the forest.
She has to be around somewhere.
He knew she could probably sense that he was approaching. She was probably afraid.
Finally. There she was, standing in the middle of the forest.
Her hair was sunlight, a bright, burning gold. Her white and blue dress blew in the wind, well more like they were the wind. Nothing about her was ordinary, or even human.
Now he was staring at her in the eyes, she was crying. Was she that afraid?
Maybe I should go. I have no intentions of harming her yet.
When she turned around, he left before she could notice.
I will find you again, Oma.
