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Ara In The Wood

Ara In The Wood

sabrinagreenephotos_ara_in_the_wood-1.jpg

Digital Painting and Story by Sabrina Greene

FB:  @sabrinalgreene

IG:  @sabrinagreeneart

E:  sabrinagreene@outlook.com

Steeping deeper in the forest, Ara looked up at the canopy of the trees.
Very little light shown down through them from their impregnated
darkness, yet she was not terrified but instead, felt a residual comfort
from them. The path that she was traveling on was well-worn and used
like that of a patchwork quilt of burnt umber and sienna.
The sprite that had convinced her to take the tentative steps into the
deeper part of the wood, gently pierced her silent reverie with an
innocent question, “By what do they call you?” She looked up at the
pulsating orb and glanced back from where she came and said in a
hushed whisper, “Ara, my name is Ara.” The sprite grew brighter still
and flared out around her as if encircling her in a motherly embrace,
“You have a strong name, child.” “A strong name? Names are nothing
more than useless titles,” Ara murmured with indignation. She turned
and faced the forest with her jaw set rigidly and set off walking again.
“In time you will fathom the error of that declaration,” the orb
exclaimed with another pulse of intense light, “Come, we have far to go
before the sky blankets itself in darkness.” Ara nodded timidly
wondering to herself if she had angered the being with her emotional
outburst. Inwardly, she chided herself saying, "What are you doing? Don’t
be a fool, you do not even know with whom you are speaking and now
you have insulted this entity." As if it could read her thoughts it said
simply, “You have much to learn child but do not chastise yourself for
speaking your mind. Do not worry, we will teach you all that wish you to
know and more.”
Did it just read my thoughts? Ara wondered but decided to not ask and
just follow. The forest, here, gave the impression that it was different,
alive, and breathing like that of an infant snoring serenely in its
mother’s arms. Ara found herself absorbed in the beauty that was unfolding before her with each step of the way. How could all of this be
so different? She had heard whispers at the court that no one should
enter the dark wood for within its mysteries, men never returned; yet
there was nothing here that frightened her. Even the ferns along the
path seem sway and dance to a melody she could not hear, how could
this treacherous? Ara didn’t know but the sprite had told her she would
receive answers to all that her heart had wondered so she continued,
not knowing where they were headed but trusting nonetheless.

La Pretresse d'Or - Golden Priestess

La Pretresse d'Or - Golden Priestess

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