Dread Mage

While Sonder was walking around the forest, though not straying too far from her designated home, as she would only travel further from it in the company of Vell, or a druid they would trust.

She kept glancing at the ground.

Though she couldn’t avoid stepping on the grass, earth, or stones, she made a conscious effort to tread lightly.

But as the foliage was thick, she couldn’t help brush against thickets and tall grass.

She noticed how the grass bent gracefully beneath her lightest touch, as if acknowledging her presence.

Sonder paused to admire a cluster of wildflowers peeking through the underbrush.

Kneeling carefully to avoid crushing any delicate stems, she whispered, “You’re beautiful. I hope you know that.”

Just then, a movement caught her eye. A small creature—something strange—peeked out from behind a bush not too far from her.

Sonder held her breath, turning her head cautiously, worried she might startle it—or that it might startle her.

“Hello there...” she murmured softly.

She hoped it might be a familiar woodland creature—perhaps a rabbit, a squirrel, or even a bird.

But as it revealed itself after another second, it was nothing like she expected.

It was a small branch, upright and walking on two tiny wooden legs.

Two more branches protruded from its sides, adorned with small leaves, one of which it waved like a tiny hand.

Sonder’s eyes widened a bit in disbelief as she took in the sight before her.

“What are you?” She whispered, afraid that speaking too loudly might send it scurrying away.

The tiny creature paused, tilting as if assessing her, then took a hesitant step forward, the leaves on its branches rustling softly.

“Are you a treant?” she asked. “I’ve heard of wandering trees, but you’re a bit too small, aren’t you?”

The little creature seemed to mull over her question, but without a mouth or anything resembling a face, it lacked a way to respond.

It nodded vigorously, up and down, and Sonder interpreted it as an affirmation.

She realized that just as she was curious about the forest, it might be curious about the world beyond the woods.

The tiny treant gestured toward the wildflowers with its branchlike arms, likely questioning her intentions.

“I was only admiring them. I won’t pick them or cause any harm. I’d never—” Sonder faltered, remembering that back in her village, when life was still normal, she often picked flowers only to discard them soon after.

And then she felt bad about it.