Chapter Text
The snowdrops tell her that there will be a spring. The crocuses tell her that it will be soon.
Travellers through Mirkwood think only the Elves can truly read its signs. She may be human, but she, too, is a daughter of Mirkwood, and she has lived under the shelter of its branches her whole life. She walks the forest's paths with sure foot and knows its beasts and blossoms both. She is a Woodperson. She will never leave these lands.
Spring will be soon. She turns her face to the stars sparkling between the bare branches and she smiles.
