
As the hight of summer appoached, the days were growing much longer and the nights much shorter. For many foxes, this threw off their sleeping schedule, but Dervla welcomed the change. For that's what life was, a constant change. She had watched as so many foxes tried to force the world around them not to change and became unhappy when their attempts failed. It never made much sense to her. Life changed and it balanced itself out.
Every summer had a winter, every spring had a fall, every day had a night. Yes, everything in life changed.
But something had been nagging at Dervla lately. She had not changed. She was as she had always been; alone. Of course she had endulged her fancys from time to time and had the children to prove that she was capable of sharing parts of herself with others.
But it hadn't changed her. She was still alone, still roaming the world.
Dervla paused her toughts to drink from the stream she had been standing over for some time now. This forest of rolling hills was her home for now, until her thoughts took her elsewhere. It was a beautiful place, full of life and death. Her thoughts had been on the forest, on life, lately but today they had turned to her. Deverla never did like it when her mind wouldn't shut up about her.
It seemed like she could always figure out the purpose of everything else in the world around her. But she could not figure out her own self.