As the sun rose over the horizon, it speckled the ground with rays of light peeking through the trees. Little dew drops formed atop each leaf and blade of grass, and the quiet forest began to spring to life for another day. Birds sang, squirrels and tiny critters skittered across the ground in search of breakfast. Bugs buzzed about and almost seemed to bid each other good morning as they passed along on their usual route through the dense fortress of trees. Deep within the wood, hidden from view stood small cottage. Smoke climbed to the sky in little plumes of white in hopes of meeting the clouds far above. The cottage was surrounded by flowers and plants, and a tiny garden fenced in on the left side. Many herbs and vegetables sprouted up from the ground and drank the droplets of water that the morning had brought. It was as though the forest loved this little cottage, enjoyed its presence. Each low hanging vine and branch reached towards it, sprinkling the rooftop with green leaves and soft petals.
From the front door, a small woman emerged. She couldn't have been more than 5 feet tall. She wore a puffy white dress with a golden ribbon at her waist. Over her shoulders and her head, she wore a shimmering yellow cloak, and tufts of messy auburn hair peeked out from under her hood. With her, she carried a hand woven basket with a soft bed of cloth nestled inside. At her hip hung a tiny burlap sack, full of herbs, seeds, and flower petals. She took a deep breath, taking in the fresh and crisp air of forest. The scent of pine and honeysuckle filled her senses. She made her way across the ground scattered with leaves and pine needles and found her way to a large gathering of pale yellow flowers, picking them ever so delicately from the ground. Once she had taken all she needed, she reached into her burlap sack and sprinkled some herbs and seeds to thank the plants for the treasured gifts they had given her.
She trotted along the forest floor, gathering up mushrooms, flowers, acorns, and anything of value she could find. In her wake, she left her sweet herbs and tiny seeds lying about on the ground to bring new life where she had harvested the forest's plentiful resources. As always, at the end of her path stood an old bridge that reached across the rushing river that passed through the forest. Wild celery and stalks of cattails shot up from the ground. She cut a good few from their stems, placing each type of plant into her basket before littering the ground with more herb. And suddenly, she herd something. She lifted her head, listening closely as she heard the unfamiliar sound of feet moving along the ground. Much too big to be a squirrel, and much too slow to be a hound. She rushed behind a tree that split off into two tall trunks that reached to the sun. She pressed herself against the tree and peeked out from behind the valley between its trunks, staring intently in the direction of the footsteps.
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