Beneath Starlit Skies

1

She opens her eyes to a sea of stars, hundreds of thousands of them shining brilliantly in an endless sky of dark. Something in her aches at the sight of the many glimmering lights and she cries, longing for home.

Please, she pleads though she doesn't quite know what she is pleading for. Please.

The stars twinkle and she stares at them for a long time, then exhaustion finally overwhelms her.

She is so tired, weak, and everything feels heavy—her body, her eyes, and her spirit.

She shuts her eyes and sleeps.

Darkness drags her down into a land of dreams.

We still remember we who dwell...

(She dreams of a crash and the devastation that came afterwards.)

::

The sky is blue when she awakens once more. She is covered by a long white pelt of fur which blankets around her like a warm hug. She doesn't want to move, but still she does. Willing herself to stand she takes the thick coat and wanders through the forest until she meets a stream. It flows swiftly through the forest and courses long and far— eventually leading to the sea.

She follows it for awhile; drinking from it when thirsty and stumbling over nearby rocks and uneven terrain until she finds the crossing where two streams meet to form a larger river.

The river flows on and on like a road leading home but she has no desire to see the western sea.. not yet. She stops following it and turns her attention to shelter.

She has the strength and reach of a child and it is so very difficult for her to carry heavy logs and branches. She tries to make a clearing in the woods but she cannot. It is too heavy. Too difficult. She is too tired.

She falls to the ground in exhaustion and cries.

Then, as the sun begins to set once more she stands and moves.

She finds a small abandoned cave large enough for her small form to fit and stays there until dawn breaks again. The night is cool, but not cold to the point of peril when she has a thick coat of fur to keep her warm.

(She peeks out in the middle of the night to see the glimmering of starlight.)

She is too tired to dream.

She falls into a dreamless slumber.

::

She wakes again, shivering beneath the crisp morning air and creeps out of the small crack of rock.

The sun rises from the east and its light shines like gold over pine treetops. She leans into its warmth.

The day is nigh.

It comes alive.

She is alive.

The day is for building a proper place for her, a home to call her own, a shelter to protect her from cold mornings.

She will take this day.

Hope builds.

::

The cave is larger than it appears.

Large enough to fit even an adult, she thinks after daring to delve even deeper inside. But not much more than that...

She spends the day coming to and from her new home as she searches her new surroundings.

Her belly aches with hunger and she struggles.

She doesn't know how to find and forage or scavenge for food in the forest.

But she needs to learn.

She must learn lest she die of starvation.

She struggles.

She is alone.

(She isn't.)

::

She might be the only human (or so she thinks) in the forest but she isn't the only living being.

"He—-hello," she rasps softly with a voice sore from underuse. There are no others to speak with in the woods and it's been a long time since she's needed to speak.

Her voice cracks oddly and her face screws up into a grimace.

The squirrel chitters and tilts its head; making an almost curious gesture.

She giggles.

Carefully, she counts what little she has gathered and decides that she has enough to spare some kindness.

She feeds the squirrel.

Immediately, it scurries away and her smile falters slightly.

Shaking her head she wills her smile to remain.

Kindness is never a waste, she thinks to herself and returns to her cave.

The next day she finds a pile of nuts and berries outside.

The sound of squirrels chittering reaches her pointed elven ears and a smile slips onto her face.

She eats knowing that she isn't alone.

::

She's learned to tame the birds and beasts of the forest, befriending them, and caring for them as they do for her.

They protect her and teach her how to survive. The squirrels guide her to bushes of ripe berries, and the birds bring her seeds to plant near her cave.

There can be miracles after all.

She believes.

She finds solace in the smell of pine which surrounds her.

::

A grunt of frustration escapes her when she futilely attempts to cut through a branch of pine by repeatedly striking it with a sharp but brittle stone. The stone breaks down with each strike and does not cut cleanly.

A knife, she thinks longingly, I need a knife.

But where can she find a knife in the middle of the great pine forest?

There are no smiths who dwell there.

It is a lost cause and she instead steers her attention into crafting clay pots and jugs to hold water or store food.

These parts of the forest are no longer strange to her, she is no longer a stranger in them and she no longer gets lost. She runs swiftly from her cave to the river, digging until she finds clay and then spends the day trying to filter it.

In the end she abandons that project as well and returns to her cave feeling thoroughly exhausted.

Failure hurts.

Time wasted hurts more.

Bitterly, she weeps with tears of frustration.

It isn't the first time she cries beneath a starry sky nor is it the first time she's felt alone in a world too large for her.

She cries herself to sleep praying for someone—anyone—to help her.

A Elbereth Gilthoniel...

(She dreams of a future far, far, away.)

::

Perseverance is a virtue she has grown to know well.

She returns to the riverbed to search for stones; tapping them against each other until she finds one it that makes a high ringing sound.

Perfect, she smiles and sets to work.

She sits and sharpens the rock until it shapes into the blade of a knife.

It may not be the prettiest or strongest of knives, but it works well enough.

She uses it to catch a fish but fails to gather the courage to gut it.

Unwittingly, she discovers her next trial.

(She doesn't eat fish for a long, long, time.)