13.

forest of the night

Once, when she was a small girl, her caravan had gone through a great forest. It was dead, dry and twisted, but the branches laced the sky and made her want for greater things. She could not imagine the trees coated with leaves and moss.

The Jewel of the East curled up on the floor of her cage and ran her fingers through her ever-growing hair. Holding her hands up to the moonlight, she crossed her fingers and tilted her head. If she held her imagination up to the light, it almost looked like the branches of a tree.

Laying back on the floor of her cage, she whispered to the metal, "Silver, can you become a tree for me?"

The silver sighed against her. "Could try, but would not be the same. Too rigid, too hard. Not organic."

She stared up at the ceiling, unseeing. "It doesn't matter. I only saw it once, I barely remember."

The metal chucked against her skin, raising her hair and making her shiver. "That is a lie. Know you well, you remember everything." It gave her a slight static shock. "Very well, will try."

The shapes it produced were close, but so far that Johara had to look away.