The morning air greeted me with the freshness only found at the start of a new day. A few late crickets and cicadas sang a sleepy hello, and the wind whispered through the leaves. The trees themselves remained quiet, rude things. The previous evening, their disdain for me had both amused and saddened me. This morning it pissed me off. When I reached the edge of the cabin’s clearing, I put my hands on my hips and scowled up at the silent giants.
“So you don’t recognize a Fae, an elemental of your kind?”
No answer, although it seemed like the wind picked up a bit. It stirred my hair around my face, the individual strands like fingers that attempted to caress and calm me. I brushed them away.
Tired of being ignored, I demanded, “What is the meaning of this rudeness?”
The trees didn’t answ
