The Venture

     In a timeless age, a young girl lived over a hill, around a corner and past a brook. She spent her days happily dancing in her fathers shadow as he cultivated their garden. Her dog, Shepherd, resided at her feet, and remained her constant companion. The girl was living in bliss until she noticed the woods. Toweringly tall, the dense assembly of trees loomed in the distance. Although her father had forbid her to enter, its presence gnawed on her conscience. With the wood at her fingertips and disobedience in her thoughts, the girl’s lingering fancy bested her. She left dancing to venture to the edge of the wood. Shepherd followed her. 

The young girl stood at the wood’s boundary. One step away from rebellion. She ran. 

Into the wood she flew, leaves tickled her face and soil delighted her feet. She would have kept going, kept leaping, kept striding but a familiar bark stopped her. She turned glaring down the path. Shepherd had firmly placed himself at the edge. He did not follow her folly, he beckoned her out of it. She marched over to him grabbed him by the collar. The dog would come with her just as he always had. After a struggle on Shepherd’s side and pure determination and the girl’s, the dog found himself fully submerged in the shadows of the wood. Together they galloped deeper and deeper into the wood. 

The young girl ran with her face to the sky. Tangled branches caressed one another in a lively dance as wind sifted through. The girl wanted to join. She twirled and twisted in wind, She felt it embrace her, it wove through her hair, trying to teach her the dance of trees. Suddenly, dizziness had a firm hold on her. The girl stumbled over an exposed root. Her loyal dog was the last thing she saw before her head hit the rock.

Time passed, the sky morphed into inky blackness. It was the wind that woke the girl. Now cold and biting, the girl hardly recognized it. She shivered at it’s touch, feeling betrayed by it. She leaned into Shepherd’s warmth. He had not changed. 

“Let’s go home.” the girl whispered. She recalled the comfort of her bed, of her home. She felt intense guilt, when she thought of her father. She had forsaken him, severed the trust they once shared. As she attempted to rise, sharp pain entwined itself in her ankle. Apparently the tumble was more disastrous then she had thought and her ankle was twisted. 

The night bounced to day and then back to night. The girl was stranded so deep in that awful wood, she feared she was out of reach. No one could find her. The canopy, the leaves, the shadows further entrapped her. She grew a strong dislike towards them, their dances mocked her. Shepherd had abandon her. She called and called for him but he was gone. She was frightened and alone and terribly sorry. Sorry for entering the woods, for dragging Shepherd in with her, for it all. As she drifted off to sleep, all hope left her. 

Unlike the previous mornings, it was not the wind that woke her. It was a kiss from dear Shepherd and firm hands lifting her gently off ground and holding her close. 

“I am sorry Father.” She said when her eyes fluttered open.

“I know you are.” He smiled. “I forgive you.”

“I love you father.” 

“I love you too, child.”