“But I am afraid,” the little girl said.

“Why?” said the tree.

“Because the world is so very big, and I so very small.”

“We are all small when compared with the world, and one’s size does not matter when compared to the strength of one’s heart.”


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The smell of baked biscuits hung in the air, scented with the tang of sharp berries. Mouse scampered around in the garden circling his great oak tree, picking a bouquet of herbs and flowers.

Owl sat up in the branches as he watched the activity below. “You needn’t fuss so over trivialities. The tea will commence regardless of whether the tables are dressed with flowers.


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Dim light filtered through the smoke that hung among the trees in the woods, piercing the smoggy veil in a fit of feeble rays. The air felt thick and close, dampening all sound and clinging to Camlen’s skin like a cool and sticky breath.

He walked through the woods, crushing fallen leaves and snapping twigs in careful, muted steps. The smoke grew thicker, stinging his throat as he breathed. Camlen squinted his watering eyes, peering through the haze until he finally came to a tall and looming tree. It had smooth and shiny bark, scored with tiny, diamond-shaped scales that shifted color in the dim light.


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Rowan flattened her wings as she perched upon a round walnut as it barreled down the river. She squinted her eyes against the spray of the water, gripping the slickened shell to keep herself from flying off.

She glanced to the side, looking for Rhys, but he was nowhere to be found. Rowan smiled. She was in the lead. She looked back ahead and cried out when a great rock loomed before her. Rowan took flight, and the little walnut bounced off the rock before sinking into the rushing water.


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You know, I don’t really ever write poetry, so I’m not sure why I did so here, other than the fact the idea of it wouldn’t get out of my head. It’s always fun to experiment, at any rate.


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