During one such scrabbling venture, she happened upon an old man in a cave who seemed unafraid of her and beckoned her closer.
Careful to not accidentally singe him with her huffing breath, she cocked her head and focused one whirling, rainbow-hued eye upon his visage.
She knew that he must be an illusion created by her oxygen-starved brain after navigating the higher altitudes for the first time in her life because there where no paths which led there.
“But that’s just it, you see,” he told her conspiratorily, “we are all a part of this great, big illusion.”
She blinked and clambered backward, regaining a solid foothold just in time to avoid falling off from the cliff’s edge backwards.
“What do you think you will find once you get to the upper regions, my dear?” he asked her candidly.
“They are as flawed as you have always thought yourself to be – but more so – for they have not endured your trials, nor had to overcome such obstacles to gain the positions that they were born into.
You have the strength to become one of their queens, if you wanted to. But be warned that you may find yourself feeling even more lonely at the top than ever before.
No longer will you dwell in anonymity’s succor, nor so easily will you be able to retreat back into your beloved forest’s camoflage.”
Candid Corvid Productions 