Back story
Pale eyes lay slumbering within the sleep of fairytales. A thin mist twists and wraps the forest floor where thickets of young pine and dense wild dogwood crowd out the rays of the rising sun. A trail known only to small creatures reveals a hidden patch of fern surrounding an ancient, crumbling tower so overrun with vines that only the top breaks free of tangles to bounce the growing daylight down to the living things below.
Mercifully, the thorns do not puncture the silken skin though the merest tremor would pierce and life’s blood would flow.
No one remembers nor even suspects that a precious life stands elegantly wrapped in a prison of beauty. Bound by and protected by it’s threatening presence, a heart beats slower than the change of seasons, beneath the thorny vines and hook-edged ragged leaves, intoxicated by a fragrance so heady and sweet, even the bees collapse as they attempt to enter it’s exquisite flowering. Petals soft and generous, lightly brush the baby soft warmth of her precious face, encouraging a blush to her ivory cheeks.
What holds the key to her bright awakening, here where time suspends the cold of winter and locks away a perpetual summer, where dew drops live through frost and bitterness to await the truth of innocence reborn?
