Son Coeur Dans Les Mains [Troll and Folium]

The fear of winter had never been more visible. I was becoming battered and bruised, while he was still strong. At night I couldn't feel the tips of anything. I could see my oxygen in the air, feel the shutter of my spin, and hear the quiver of my lip. It was a rough winter to survive, but I had made due, just like every year. I simply left no room for weakness, no room for death to creep it's way in. How could I? There was still so much to live for. The rolling green hills, the swaying trees, the sprouting grass. All of which were reason enough to press on, all of which had become my friends. 

The sun had crept from behind the towering trees, and I said hello. He was feeling home sick, finally done with his rest and ready to shine for the world. The snow on the ground would melt, the clouds would drift, and the sky would paint itself blue. I woke next my regular creek, the moss covered bridge over head, the sensation of my cotton blanket against my bare feet. It was morning, and I was ready to say hello.

Today was a market day, I wanted to visit the market. Make conversation, beg for a bite to eat, or a drink to sip. I didn't have much, sometimes asking was my only option. It was better then taking what I needed, I hadn't tried that motive for almost a year now. It's just recently that people are starting to trust me near their booths again. How could I resist the pleasure of warm wheat bread sitting unattended? 

I had been walking along the market, my hands in the pockets of my wool coat, my hair tucked away in a large beanie. I could feel the wait of my backpack against the sway in my back, and I could hear the clack of my boots on the pavement. I was observing the faces passing by, they all were so different. Had I really looked like a "Troll". I never understood what a troll was thought to look like, I only knew they found placement under bridges. Perhaps I was this "Troll".

I stand steady for a moment, in this moment a boy nearly bumps into me. He was tall, dark hair, dark eyes, roughly my age. "Oops! I'm sorry!" he says. I look at him for a moment, running his word through my mind. I understood them perfectly, but I just wanted to be sure. "I-It's o-o-okay." I manage to get out. I try to give a half hearted smile and wonder if I should walk away.