Rose's Faerie Tale

Her name was Rose.

Rose was as hard-working and kind of a woman as you could ever ask for. She loved to read, and very much to write.

As a matter of fact: You could say that writing was her passion in life. You see, Rose wanted nothing more in the entire world than to be heard by someone. Anyone. Rose only wanted for someone to hear her voice above the crowd.

So, every day, she worked hard towards this goal. When she got with the sun, she greeted it with warm smile and went about her daily chores as quickly as she could. When she was done with these, she would race inside, grab the latest volume of whatever she was reading at the time, and then bolt back outside into the sunshine and into the fields to go about her reading.

Often times, people passing through on their carts on the way to market mistook her for a little faerie sitting in the fields with her red hair unbound  in an unladylike fashion, and her skirts pillowed out around her like clouds. She would chew on her pencil and think deep into the book, and imagine herself in those pages.

Sometimes she was the damsel in distress, and sometimes she was the heroine braving dragons and evil kings.  Either way, Rose was completely content with sitting in the fields and reading, or writing, or taking notes on something she wanted to work on later.

Now one day, as Rose finished her daily chores, the sky did as it sometimes did, and turned black with the warning of summer rain. Rose, however was undeterred.

She grabbed her notes and her latest book, and gently placed them into a bag so that, if caught unawares, they would remain dry. Without a second thought, she raced out the gate to her home, running to the fields where she often-times made herself most comfortable with her ideas and fantasies.

Sitting out here in the field, Rose could feel her inner self relaxing and wakening to the fact that it was time to become creative.

She must have sat there in the field an hour before the thunder from the clouds above her became unbearably loud; the heavens broken open with the rain that had weighed down the clouds so heavily.

Shoving her things into the bag that she kept on her, Rose bolted for the trees of the woods for temporary shelter. Summer storms seldom lasted longer than a little while. It seemed better for her to be out of the rain as quickly as possible, and wait for the time to come when she could go home without becoming drenched.

Here in the woods, Rose found herself in a warm, quiet place that had no sounds except the rain hitting the canopy of leaves far above her head. She looked around for a place to seat herself to wait out the rain. Humming to herself, she found a little crook in the heart of a tree not far from her, but still further into the woods.

She smiled to herself, and dashed to it without another thought. As she nestled into the crook of the tree, she looked back at the direction she had come in. She noticed with just a little discomfort that she could no longer see the open field that she had been in only moments before. Instead of worrying, however, Rose merely piled her heavy skirts around her, and made herself more comfortable for waiting out the rain.

Her sneakers made a funny squelching noise against the trunk of the tree, as she snuggled into her little place.

Here she sat in the silence for a good while, listening to only the rain above her.

Green eyes watched Rose from a close distance. Here she was, the red-haired girl turned young woman that he had watched growing up for so long. She had finally dared to venture into the woods, despite what the other girl had warned her so frequently of.

Here, he spotted a small fox. Flicking his wrist, whispering a word, he granted the Fox speech.

'Warn her,' he thought, 'If she's caught, things will be hard.'