Redemption

The wet earth smells of mushroom and loam. I race through the trees. Branches reach for my eyes and tangle my hair. My kirtle rips, but I still run, faster through the woodland, escaping the murderous men who chase behind me with vicious, barking dogs. The men are my enemies and the woodland is my friend. I climb a tree to its tip, to where the branches thin, and I see the dead bird there. Only it...