τhε сlεαɾïṉģ

Her eyelids fluttered open. Salena found herself laying in a maze of branches, cut off from the rest of the clearing. The sweet scent of pine needles filling the air. A faint smile curled the tips of her pale lips as she sat up on her large branch, looking up at where sunlight made its way though, casting shadows along her ivory skin. With a child's 'easy to read' book propped up in her lap, she began to write with her one available automail arm, the other in a sling that stretched across her chest and around her shoulders that leaned against the tree trunk. Her neat print looked like chicken scratch next to type writer's ink, but Salena's distant gaze betrayed her contentment. To her, she was doing everyone a favor. The pictures said something pretty and she was going to write about it- even if she couldn't spell, read, or even see for that matter. Her soft golden curls flowed down her shoulders and back, to her waist, entangled with bits of broken pine. The long, white button up collar shirt she wore stopping finger tip length down her thighs to reveal a bloody mess of bandages that covered just about every inch that wasn't hidden by the thin fabric. Her face was a bloody mess as well, gashes scarring the once angelic teen. She truly had been beautiful- though with the other multiple scars that ran around her body, it was hard to tell. Her honey brown orbs singled out a picture of the right side of the page- a simple painted heart colored a midnight purple with ebony black wings seeming to rip out of it's sides. Again, she couldn't help but smile nor tear her eyes away. A silver finger with an un-sheathed razor edge felt for the picture, tracing the edges of it longingly.
Salena placed the book along side her on the thick branch and rested her single hand on her lap. She needed a check list- a goal for this place. The neko like human's eyebrows creased together as she chewed on her bottom lip in thought. The basic survival items- sheler. check. She could just feel her way back up the tree. Food, water, and someone to help her along her way. Okay, that's a problem. The girl sighed, blowing the long bangs out of her eyes and leaned her head back against the trunk of the pine. In her brief absence of thought, an old song popped up in her head and yet another slight smile was brought forth. The old, whispering lullaby of an Indian flute washing along her to-do list. For now anyways- the girl was spacey as usual. The silver sheen of her automail's fingers reflected the moon's light as her fingers tapped out a slow rhythm on the rough bark of the tree.