Maia chuckled softly and scurried along the branches, maybe she would see him later or something. She sat down in a sturdy fork, completely hidden from below. This was her favorite spot for doodling.
Taking out a sketchbook, she flipped through many drawings or birds, plants, people, landscape until she came across an empty page. She sketched and sketched, she didn't even know what she was sketching, it came out to her. She sketched whateveer was in the distance. Then she realized what she was drawing. A girl with denim blue eyes, a bow and arrow in her hands, she was in shooting position. Crows circled the sky, as caribou and wildebeest trampled the plains just beyond.
Maia squinted. Wasn't that the girl she had seen earlier, she couldnt tell, it was too far away, and the branches that kept her soo hidden were in the way. She shrugged but ripped the picture out. She had a tradition, whoever she drew got the drawing
"I've got a pocket full of poetry, got a head full of songs, a heart with wings. You couldn't tie me down to anything, and that's enough for me." -Pocket Full of Poetry
5000th post 8/3/13