Ophelia
Once upon a time, in a faraway land, there lived a young girl who spoke with trees. She would tell the trees all of her happinesses and sorrows, frolick among their roots and dry her tears beneath their boughs. For a long time, all was well in her fantastic grove, and the trees would talk back, but only if she listened very closely. All of the birds would sing in the branches of the trees, and the squirrels would dance with her. She was happy.
She grew older among the trees, and would spend days upon days in that grove, sometimes even sleeping out with her blanket, unafraid of the wilds of the wood in a place with as much sanctity as a church. She was, in fact, an odd child, and no one knew quite where she went when she would go off into the forest all day; she cared not for the company, really, of other children. Her mother was a beautiful woman and caring and kind too, she didn't mind that Ophelia went off into the woods at home, and didn't mind her secretive nature when confronted about her daily excursions.
One day, while Ophelia was resting in her grove, a fairy boy came. He glowed white, and was covered head to toe in fairy dust. He was very beautiful too.
"Girl," he said, "why are you in this grove?"
"Because my friends are here." she said.
"But you are not a fairy?"
"No, I am not a fairy, but I can hear the trees speak."
"Then you must be special, only fairies can hear trees speak. I will take you to the fairy queen, and she will tell you something special."
She grew older among the trees, and would spend days upon days in that grove, sometimes even sleeping out with her blanket, unafraid of the wilds of the wood in a place with as much sanctity as a church. She was, in fact, an odd child, and no one knew quite where she went when she would go off into the forest all day; she cared not for the company, really, of other children. Her mother was a beautiful woman and caring and kind too, she didn't mind that Ophelia went off into the woods at home, and didn't mind her secretive nature when confronted about her daily excursions.
One day, while Ophelia was resting in her grove, a fairy boy came. He glowed white, and was covered head to toe in fairy dust. He was very beautiful too.
"Girl," he said, "why are you in this grove?"
"Because my friends are here." she said.
"But you are not a fairy?"
"No, I am not a fairy, but I can hear the trees speak."
"Then you must be special, only fairies can hear trees speak. I will take you to the fairy queen, and she will tell you something special."