The night was dark and chilly as rain gently pattered against the needles of the great trees. It was darker still, pitch black even, under their canopies which were blanketed by pine needles in various states of freshness and decay. As the moon peeked out from behind the clouds, a ghostly figure could be seen splayed out, lying amid the mud and brush. Her rising and falling chest betrayed signs of life, just as her pale skin announced her presence, despite being soiled.
Without a stitch of clothing, nor any form of worldly possession to speak of, truly she was one with nature. But as her body shifted and she stretched, she didn't really feel that way. She felt indifference. As though she was utterly inconsequential. And also cold. Very cold. Though she was used to it by now. She would survive.
Shifting her position again, she curled up into a ball, conserving as much of her body heat as possible. And she quietly prayed, "Dear Gaea, thank you for the life-giving rain, and everything."
The only response was the constant trickling of rain, and perhaps a very faint, distant thunder.
Later she prayed again: "Great Animal Spirits, I salute thee. Please guide me on a path of wisdom and virtue."
Only crickets answered the call by chirping, albeit quite slowly.
Finally she prayed, "Reykvargr, I lie humbled before you. Please accept my deepest respects, and spare me no malice."
As the faint drizzle slowed to a stop, only silence remained.
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