please stay, for this fear will not die - any

[Noori]

Most days, most days stay the sole same
Please stay, for this fear it will not die
Down low, down amongst the thorn rows
Weeds grow, through the lilies and the vines

This time when she walks into a completely foreign kingdom, she’s not off her rocker. She doesn’t roll in the sand dunes and panic when the king jokingly mentions her ruining his favourite patch of sand. She doesn’t hide between the Queen’s legs at meetings, nor does she go mental when water splashes her. The crippling anxiety no longer holds Noori; the sun-freckled doe has disappeared.

In her stead, Mother Spring stands proudly.

The border of the Dale phases her little, and after a brief consideration of all that Scorch had ever taught her, Noori begins trotting briskly through the green kingdom. Yes, she thinks to herself with immense pleasure. This will do nicely. Not made of sand, not made of shadows. Smiling a pretty, secret smile, the white-barked woman tosses her red willow fronds from her eyes with a twinkly whinny, like a quick running brook.

Let them come to her, oh, yes. Let them come to the Mother.

noori