| A tiny heart drummed storms of fear as she crouched and waited, deep and small, in the hollow of the wood that welcomed her and offered safety from the hunter just beyond the ancient sun-warmed bark. Heartstorms calmed at last, and she dreamed in gentle breezes that were spinning from the summer skies, certain that today was not her day to die. A tiny heart settled into warm, protected from the peril that she knew lay waiting for her will to fade, or fail, and fall into the shiver of mortality that promised to engulf her if she breathed it in. In the danger and the chase, it is this way for many hearts now gathering, to wait and dream, inside a sun-warmed place of safety touched by breezes spinning from the summer skies. |
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