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Minerva
"Minerva!"
I am running, gasping, clutching my side, and just miserable.
"Minerva Thorn!"
My mother's voice calls for me- but she's not my mother. I don't know if she ever was. I keep running; my face and arms becoming marred with scratches from the branches and thorns I run through.
"Come back! It's not what you think! He has lied- that boy has told you lies! Come back and I can tell you the truth. I can protect you from the dangers of this world!"
Then why is your army chasing me? My tunic catches on a branch and it rips when I pull frantically away. The thunder of hooves on the forest floor grows louder and I am able to hear the gutteral commands of the soldiers. I won't make it, I won't-
My foot finds a large root and I am sent sprawling down a hill of mossy rocks and vines, grasping for stability. In my daze, I successfully reach a large pile of rocks and I cower in a hole beneath it. A few soldiers pause on the outcropping I triped over. They seem to regroup, then they move on. The relief is too much for my aching muscles, so I lay down, ready for sleep. One thing I do notice, though, is a huge gathering of butterflies on the outcropping above me. They seem to be watching around me for something...
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I'm not sure if her name was a good choice, but I went with it. Let me know if I should expand this to a book length. Thanks :-)