ᏔᎬᏞᏟᎾᎷᎬ ᎢᎾ ᎾᎪK ᏆᏚᏞᎪNᎠ

ᏆN ᎢᎻᎬ ᏴᎬᏩᏆNNᏆNᏩ

In the beginning there was Dior.
Dior grew in grace and beauty, kind and sweet she believed every person equal. The acts of placid, delicate, and pleasant people drew pleasure from her heart, but her parents hearts did not grapple the same.

"Dior doll, those people don't compare to us. We live in luxury and riches." Her mother said. "Sweet girl, you won't right now but soon you will come to understand that they are below us. You are a princess, Dior. Act in such a way." Said her father and the king of the great Oak Island. Dior would write in her journals her father brung for her after far and long voyages to other countries. She'd sat and written in the forest trees for hours. "Beautiful and Calm" she'd thought to herself. When set and done, it was wrapped in cloth and bestowed in a wooded crate in the trees.

Once daylight Dior traveled to the forest to retrieve her unfinished journal and at the bass of the tree trunk was a boy. The boy sat crouched at the bass hunched over and as Dior continued to travel and look onto him she heard a page turn. Dior charged at him "AND WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING WITH MY THINGS!" she yanked her journal away from his hands and hit him atop the head with it. "My apologies, your crate hit me as I strolled. You should find a better place for it." He chuckled at her rubbing his curly head. "Well maybe you shouldn't have strolled by, your on my property", she half yelled. She turned away from him. He spoke to her and told her how good her writings were. They strolled and he swept her off her feet with knowledge and his quick-witted mind, but her swoon filled gaze came to an end for her father called from the palace. "I have to go but we will meet again ." She began to run towards the palace. "Wait, I didn't even get your name!". "It's Dior!" She said, with a big grin and turned to progress in sprint towards her father.

From this day forward Dior pursued meetings with the boy everyday, up until her mother unearthed their grown relationship and her journals. "Dior, you have made your mother shame and aghast!" She cried hysterically, bring the girl to her father. Dior fell to her knees, head bowed in dishonor. "May your eyes find mine and your ears seek the sound of my voice." Dior looks up to him, eyes watering. "You must retreat at once" her head fell again. "Dior?" Her father kneels as her mother runs about the palace still whaling. He picks up her head "Retreat, promise me." He said hurt and stern. "Retreat". "NO!" Dior yelled standing, tears spewing over her cheeks. She ran. The boy got the opposite. His family and "friends" were very elated that he'd talked to the princess. Everyone cheered for him and but he was sad. "What would they do with her" he thought.
The next daylight the boy strolled through his town in search of food, constantly glancing at the palace he worried. "Will! Will!" He heard his name whispered to him. "Will!" "What?" He whisper yelled back looking around. It continued until he back into a corner. Had he gone insane just now? He was tugged into a crevice. "It's me Will!" Dior kissed his lips. "Dior! I thought they'd-" "I was put to flight, Will." His eyes grew wide, " THEY THREW YOU OUT FOR SPEAKING WITH ME ?! I'm so sorry, Dior" He almost began to weep. "Noooo no no no no no, I was put to flight by me. I can't bear to be with out you. I have grown to you and I cannot fall in line with the rules of not seeing you. We are equals and I am not more than you, we are-" "not opposites"Will replied, finishing her sentence. He kissed and held his girl. Dior told him that they had to flee. "Let me feed my family first" and he did. After that they were off.