This is a story has MANY influences, and some not listed here like ANYTHING Tim Burton and ever so partially Skyrim... Mostly Middle Earth And with some Scandinavian heavy metal influences. Specifically the band: Eluveitie.
There in the pristine, serene meadow, where the air stood almost perfectly still in the mellow, soft dawn; And where the rays of a golden sunrise sifted through the leaves cast beams of light and the contrasting mottled shadows of the leaves it fed danced on the ground; And where the tendrils of whiteness emanating from the ever-so-gently flowing brook rose from a carpet of steam of the steadily warming water as if their individual paths had been destined from The Beginning itself, a lady stirred.
She was brown of hair, it was dark and fell in perfect ringlets bejewelled with the delicate glistening pearls of dew that fell from her hair. Her slender arms pushed her torso and hazy head from the carpet of wild Daisies they had found rest in more than two nights earlier. Her hair framed in stark contrast the pale, soft skin of her face.
Her dense, thick luscious green eyes, akin in colour, vibrancy and details to the forest around her, where busy trying to focus on the white tendrils, now disturbed from her movements and sharp inhale as consciousness flooded her body.
Then they searched the area around her intently, in hope of falling upon their target, but he was nowhere to be seen. And the corners of her full red lips turned down slightly at the lack of her target in the vicinity.
Her high cheekbones and slightly pointed chin depicted an essence of royalty, Lady of a house perhaps, Templar if not and the pointed ears that pierced through the dark veil of her hair gave away that she was indeed a High Elf of the Northern forests.
Her subconscious, which she had sent out as a protective ward whilst she found slumber and refreshed her earthly body, was still returning to her and finding it's place within herself. Until at last they where as one, seeing not in fragments and distorted representations of the world that her subconscious viewed through her bodies eyes, but crystal clarity and sharp distinction. She instantly knew what leaves where safe to lather onto her body aiding in the cleansing of her morning ablutions, that was well in debt to her extended sleep; what mushrooms where safe to break the fast she had found with rest and fulfil her physical bodies nutritional needs; what leaves would be the sweetest of scent to rub upon her flesh in mask of the odours of daily life and the long march which laid in wait after her bathe and which roots would provide the sustenance and stamina she would require.
She slipped into the mountains frosty waters and felt all the negativity , doubt, regret, anger, lust and worries that her pre-conscious had accumulated in reaction to her subconscious' ponderings whilst watching guard over her physical form these past morns and evenings.
She felt the dirt and grim and smell wash away from her body as she rubbed the leaves all over herself and in the brunette hairs of her hair, now perfectly straight, drenched by the cleansing liquid flowing around and through her.
She glided out of the lake and let the air that now rustled the branches playing with the shadows, dry her, her hair finding it's natural springs again, and the air lifting her soul. She called to nature to provide for her and thanked her when a rough, but strong silk garment floated down to her feet.
She pulled it around herself, tied it off and started the long journey that lay ahead of her.