Idle.

She sat beneath the tree and looked up at the sky. She didn't know what type of tree it was, nor did it matter. It filled the air with the scent of plant as a warm breeze blew by, twirling her hair. The moon seemed brighter here. It bathed everything in a shimmering white light. She was at complete peace. she was as much a part of the landscape as the cool grass, the thick forest behind her, or the stars yawning in the distant charcoal sky. A tall, peeling tree trunk sat beside her, blending easily with the forest. One would not normally marvel at the tree. It was very ordinary- it took up space, and provided a specific band of shade during the day, added to the lurking shadows during the night. It was nice to look at, because it was a healthy tree with bark and leaves, but it was not important. It was the type of tree that would not matter until it was cut down- once gone, it would leave a gaping hole in its surroundings, a missing band of shade, a slightly smaller group of shadows. The girl was like the tree. Her hair did not shine, her skin did not glow in the soft light of the moon. Her eyes didn't glisten with the curiosity of a woodland nymph, and her face was not a flawless canvas of creamy skin. Sitting beneath that tree that night, bathed in moonlight and dried with shadows- one might not even see her had they passed by this small section of the forest. But were she gone, the little clearing would not be someone's little clearing. It would not be the warm, peaceful happy place of a young woman. She got up to leave- she didn't want to go, but the night did not last forever. She would leave the scene, a character missing from a story- but she would be back. It didn't matter how long she would be gone- it only mattered that she would return.