Springtide sighed heavily, stretched out on her side on her grassy hilltop, deep in thought. She had met a strange buck for all of one day and now she was considering leaving here? Not that she was tied down, but...
But lately she had been searching for some sign, some omen in the clouds or grass or water, something that would give her a hint of the future. But nothing came to her. The clouds looked like clouds, the song of birds did not speak to her of things to come. She felt deaf and blind and helpless.
She shifted uncomfortably. How could she make decisions now, when the signs were silent? She had never been so adrift.
