I could hardly believe my eyes when I saw Astra walking towards me. She’d ignored all of my letters so I wasn’t really expecting her to show.

Her pink hair stood out in the forest’s sea of green, brown, and grey. There was no mistaking it was her.

The letters didn’t stop coming after that.

Even if I didn’t trust them, they were flattering.

Some were poems.

The girl had caught my eye so easily. With her bubblegum pink hair, she stood out.

I’d followed her for a bit and was almost disappointed to find out she was so alone.

I’d never been lucky.

I wasn’t lucky with the family I was born into. I wasn’t lucky when my dad left when I was an infant and never came back. Nor was I when my mother fell into her alcohol addiction and disappeared one morning.

There was a time, I’m told, when the realm before me was much less wretched.

When the rivers and streams flowed freely—instead of the pathetic trickle that flow had become. When the sun would peak through the trees and warm you instead of the stiff cold air we were stuck with now.