I walked the woods for a century and a half.

Alone, just me and my beloved quarterstaff.

No rules to obey.

No hurt to come my way.

The leaves in autumn crunched under my feet.

I danced to the unknown forestial beat.

Spun around without a single care.

A wild Siren, with fiery, crimson hair.

My heart stumbled along my love path.

After a while, my heart was filled with wrath.

I needed a change in my way.

So I released my stave, and beckoned what may.

Now a city I have, a house too.

New friends and much learning to do.

I would have never thunk.

I would be a Magi, marrying a simple monk.

An ode to the woman I used to be.

A welcoming to the new one, staring back at me.

A future unwritten, who knows what it will hold.

So thank you, forest for raising me and making me bold.

To the new woman I see in the mirror now.

Chin up, staff in hand, and its your turn to take a bow.


Shalohan Storm-Moonflair

Penned by my hand on the 9th of Sarapin, in the year 806 AF.