Celeste Summit :||: D7 :||: FIN {CB Highland Games}

Forevermore she trumpets through the meadow. Celeste the girl with roots, the girl with skin of bark, the girl who will run.

Fear of the outside was something of children, it was the inside that brought true pain.

The earth had never hurt people, people only hurt people. 

And so people aren't worthy of her presents.

The shrilling sings of the feathered creatures above, the slither of a scaled monster below.

How her bellow rubbed against the grass, how her hair whirled in the wind.

Her heartbeat mimicked that of dirt, her skin hard, and impenetrable by the hatred spewed at her.

It was as if bark had encased her soul, the saying "words will never hurt me" had become her reality.

Through gritted teeth her arm reached the next elevation, along with her leg and so on and so forth.

When the world was beneath her it made for happiness.

It made her royal, distant from those that inflict pain upon each other.

The coo of the girls hum equaled that of the birds that share the space.

For she was one and the same with all that was near.

She was built apart form humans, because humanity was the most vicious of all things.

Away she will run, for hurt will never find her heart.

Not when she is out here, soaked in the sulk of the forest.