My First Post

1/29/2007   Finn moved to the edge of a holly bush and plucked a branch with several berries nestled deep amid the shiny green leaves. Aiming a barb at his index finger, he sliced into the pad and then pressed the bloody finger firmly to his forehead and to his heart, leaving thick red smears. Face grim, he turned to the forest raising one arm high and tipping his head backwards. A plaintive chord echoed through the woods, followed by a string of words that Fionna could not understand. She watched anxiously as Finn completed his task and stumbled back to where she knelt beside Roan. He did not meet her gaze as he threw himself to the ground and sat, silent and immobile.

Fionna stretched out her hand to touch Finn, then withdrew it. Something in his face had changed. Something in his demeanor alarmed her. He had become hard and unyielding and foreign. She knew instantly that she could not reach him now, that her words would have no meaning, that their friendship was moot. It was as if he had gone somewhere she could not follow and it frightened her. She shook her head and the feeling fled.

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