The Moon Child

magic, she hoped.
Yet, as she gathered up the folds of her dress, she felt a difference in herself. The craft has left its mark on me all the same. I can’t go back to being a child, not after all that’s happened. As the wind rustled across the bracken, she thought she caught just the merest hint of a spell; just the briefest chuckle of magic hidden in the undergrowth, but then it was gone. Slowly, she got up and walked back to the camp.
End