Under the Blue Moon

Book One

Something mourns between the trees. The stars fall away and the blue moon rises once more.
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Sleep doesn't come to me like it used to, and the late air hangs heavy with the smell of wet leaves and slow decay. It presses onto me, into me- a blanket of forest that fills my lungs and looks out through my eyes. Running, dreaming in the night, I see deer in every shadow, bounding away into the trees, always away, as if I'm not meant to be here.