Faewyn--Eleven years old

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After the first dream I had, there were many others. At first, they would always start in the same clearing where I had first seen the stag. However, though I did not know it now, I would only see him once more, on my seventeenth birthday.

I knew it was the same clearing. There was a certain reality, and depth, that wasn't present in the usual paper town dreams that were caused by normal human patterns of REM sleep. There was one tree, in particular. It branched out horizontally, with large, whispering branches you could easily climb. I was sitting there, maybe the third time I dreamt of the forest. I believe I was almost eleven, and relished the freedom that came with an alternate reality. I decided to explore a little bit, past the implied barriers I had confined myself to. Past the great tree, there was no sense of direction. None at all. I felt as if everywhere I looked was the exact same. A small spark of fear ignited inside of me, but I kept on, padding through the undergrowth in my bare feet and hoping I could find my way back to my clearing eventually. A bush rustled nearby and I flinched uneasily. Suddenly, an explosion of feathers ascended quite rapidly in front of me, and I screamed, falling to the ground and covering my head with my hands. I peered up cautiously. They seemed to be birds, all perched like toy soldiers on a branch above me. They were odd, though. Although they seemed to be sparrows, a few of them seemed ink-stained, some of their feathers black. One cocked it's head and flew away, but the others stayed and cheeped softly to each other.

"Hello..." I said nervously. 

"Hello!" came a small voice nearby. "Are you a dwarf?"

"No," I said in an injured tone. "Are you?"

"No!" came a laugh from above me. I stared hard at the birds. "Um..."

"No, over here," Two grey eyes peered down at me from the same branch the birds were on. 

I quickly got to my feet. A girl leaped down backwards from the branch and landed in front of me. 

"No, not a dwarf. A hobbit?" she mused, walking about.

"What's a hobbit....?" I said blankly. 

"I suppose that eliminates that option," she said by way of answer. 

She stood for a moment, studying me intently, so I got a chance to take in her appearance. She looked about fifteen, and though young, her eyes held a clever spark that usually indicated great knowledge. Her black hair was elaborately braided down her back, on which were strapped a miniature sword and a honey colored bow. Six arrows were in her pocket. Her forest green dress seemed to be gilded, and she was shod with soft fawn-colored boots.

"Nice dress...." I said softly, trying to get past the fact that this new development was really quite intimidating.

"It's not exactly a dress, but thank you just the same," she said cheerfully. "What are you again?"

"What do you mean, what am I?" I answered with a hint of irritation. "I am clearly a girl."

"Oh," she responded, evidently slightly flummoxed. "Oh......You are a daughter of Man" she suddenly said, with comprehension dawning on her face.

"My dad's name is David....?" I said, if possible more confused than ever.

"My ada is named Calathir, if that is what you are alluding to," she said. "And I am Faewyn." I looked up at her. Suddenly, as she tucked a spare braid of her hair behind her ear, I noticed something very peculiar.

"Why are your ears pointed.....?" I asked slowly.

"What in Arda are you talking about?" she queried, looking at me like I was a demented sea crustacean of some sort. "Of course my ears are pointed. I'm an elf."

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