Oh Mai. How I can’t wait to see you. My thoughts race as fast as I can run with thoughts of her. Scenarios of our future life blur through the leaves and dappled light of the canopy. Dew from the ferns streaks my calves as I race down the path. Only a short window exists for me to see my goddess of the grove Mai, and today I’m behind schedule. I doubt she’ll be mad but I’ll be mad if I miss a moment. I wonder if the mist will dance with her this morning? How I wish I could be the spray that’s caresses her skin while she moves.

Sliding to a stop and take a few deep breaths to slow my heart for fear of disturbing her peace. I found the perfect viewing by accident one morning while searching for early signs of mushroom growth. Walking through the core of a downed tree up to a hollowed out knot i glimpsed her for the first time. The sound of water splashing at an odd cadence seemed to pull me to the hole. The soft wood seemed to part ways for me as a heavy leaf deposits water back to the earth. Welcoming the thirst quenching delight.

Such Grace should not exist and yet there she was. Chestnut hair spiraling in free intricate patterns as if it had made a deal with the wind itself. Delicate power propelled her around the glade, weaving an intricate pattern through the soft earth and puddles. Droplets joining the dance as they fan out from each step. Her skin so smooth that it seemed to shed anything she did not wish to touch her. Nothing compares to her eyes, a deep purple with a slight sharp shape that only adds to the mystery. My heart can only handle so many glimpses without dreaming of falling into those depths.

Walking down my second home i can feel the soft rotted would welcoming with its soft embrace. I had carved a small indentation into the welcoming wood so that I could gaze on my love. Settling down I shut my eyes to sync my heart with the sound of her dance. A soft easy tempo that I knew would pick up to a sprint that would send me to the stars. She was as elegant as ever as she twirled through the cool morning. Steam weaving around her as she moves. Relaxing into the warm embrace of my home all my anxieties wash away. Oh Mai. You know just how to set me at ease as the sound of the forest drifts away.

My heart thumps hard for the briefest of moments at the thought of her knowing. Wishing I could go to her. But even without our families approval, it would still be in vain. Those beautiful violet freckles sparkling her skin accent her beauty so perfectly. Yet spell my doom. Rubbing my own green freckled skin and squeezing my frustration out. How could something so complementary cause the opposite reaction?

A people separated by nature while being of the same people. How it makes any sense is beyond me. I’ve never gotten a good answer as to why the Rook people changed. At least we claim they are the ones that changed. Old trappers claim it’s corrupted power that changed them yet we exist in perfect harmony with them. We just can’t touch for fear of death. We are able to touch goods held by their people and eat the food they grow but physical contact is strictly forbidden.

I don’t know how long I can’t stop myself from wanting to be with her. I dream of the day we lock eyes. I just know she will understand me with a glance. I occasionally drop things from the hole in hopes she will notice me, but when she moves it seems the forest moves for her. I would move for her, oh Mai.