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Rated: E · Fiction · Sci-fi · #2207605
Trying to get a perspective on the very beginning of a book idea.
She could feel herself gaining speed as she got closer to the forest. By the time she hit the tree line, she was running. The pull was stronger than it had ever been before. She didn't know where she was going; she just felt like she needed to run.
Fia had always loved being outside, but the forest felt special. It was the place she felt safest and free. Her aunt had once said that in a past life, she must have been a forest creature. Maybe something mystical like a fairy. This had always made Fia laugh. While her aunt was a bit eccentric, there was still a sense of wisdom in the things she said. Fia had always felt a little out of place.
She had always been a bit of an outcast. Everything from her name, the way she looked, to still being the new kid, she could never quite fit in. She had learned early on how to stay in the shadows and not be noticed. On the plus side, she thought, if no one sees you, then no one will bother you.
Fia started to slow down as she realized it was getting dark. She had been running for so long, and so hard she hadn't realized the sun had begun to set. As she looked around, Fia realized she didn't know where she was. She was farther into the forest than she had ever been before. How fast had she been running? She tried to remember how she had got here, but it felt as if she had blacked out. "Shoot," she said out loud. It was a strange feeling to hear her voice break through the silence of the forest. She hadn't realized just how silent it was until she had spoken. It made her shiver, which confused her. She loved the silence the forest could provide, so why did it seem to feel so eerie this time. Maybe it was because she was clearly lost.
Trying to remain calm, she looked for something to give her a sense of direction. The trees were so thick around her; she couldn't quite tell where the sun was. Though, she wasn't sure it would matter. She wasn't even sure what direction she had been running in or how many times it had changed. Either way, she needed to try and figure out where she was. She sat for a moment on the ground, trying to listen. She could hear the faint sound of water in the distance. It was the best place to start.

Fiahd was Irish, Nita was Choctaw, her parents were neither. Or at least not to her knowledge. She had asked her aunt once why they had given her such a strange name. She had hated that her name rhymed and wondered if her parents had done it on purpose. Her aunt, however, had said they did not choose it, it was selected for them. You were always supposed to be called wild bear. Fiahd has always just thought it was her aunt being eccentric, as always.
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