Atop the Mountain

A figure walked in the woods, hidden under a heavy thick cloak to block out all light. They walked along by themselves thinking of someone very dear, when they heard a voice talking. They paused for a moment before walking towards to them, they stood a few feet behind them and watched them. Acidic green eyes, narrowed into a saddened look as they recognized the person. They had only seen her once before, but when they did meet they never spoke. So this could be considered their first meeting, watching silently they saw the person begin to step off the rock. A voice as calm as the wind and as soft as ghost but loud enough to feel as though he was beside them whispering it, he asked, "It's never too late to shoot for the stars, because today could be last day you see them."

The soft breeze the blew moved the cloak and white feathers danced along the wind as they flew off into the mountain air. The stood there watching the person with an almost pained look as they moved closer to them. Reaching out a pale hand they, hesitated in whether or not not to touch them. Finally they reached out and gently touched them with a ghost like touch. They stood there in silence as they looked at the person with their head held low, so low that the hood they wore covered up their face entirely.