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CHAPTER IV

Chapter 04

"She's mad, but she's magic. There's no lie in her fire." ― Charles Bukowski

The lark had made an appearance just when I started to lose faith in myself; as if he were a sign from The Mother to make me get going, and not to let morbid thoughts imprison me in a hopeless state of mind. I had to make it in time, there was no way that I was to leave them waiting, and thus angering the spirits of the woods. I've got this.

For some reason or other, the trees seemed to let me go smoothly this time, and the once freezing, chilly air seemed to warm up after he vanished out of nowhere. I wondered if he were one of the immortal creatures of the bushes that lived all their lives lurking in the deep spooky woods; I wondered if they were harmless, or if one of them was to appear and block my way again. 

The lark, flying high in the, now, breezy night; escorted me all the way while I held the

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