The Healer

Acacia wandered the forest which had become her home, pondering the troubles of the woods. The finches had become quiet, and the deer wary of her. She would not have thought it strange if it had been in only one part of the lands she traveled, but it seemed the longer she continued, the stranger the animals behaviors became. She had protected these parts for many years, but nothing had unsettled the beings of the wild so much as whatever was now. Even the dragons, whom were the most bold and arrogant of the species she knew, had become almost tamed in their ways.
A new thought came to her; what if she had somehow gone too close to a village? She knew none had been within many miles of here before, but it had been months since she had patrolled this area of the woods. Perhaps her race had once again claimed the land as their own.
Too soon she arrived at one of the trees that served as her resting place. This one, the third of five that she had chosen, was an ancient weeping willow with a depression where its main trunk split into three thick branches. inside the depression she had fitted it with mosses and had directed hundreds of the long, vine-like branches to grow around it, serving as a barrier. Although she knew no other people roamed the forest - at least in this area - the vines provided a privacy that made her feel safer than if they had grown freely. The other four places where she had set up posts were a lanky pine, which she stayed at the base of; a young oak, which leaned over a creek where deer visited often; a roomy hollow grown from multiple close-set bushes, where she picked berries to eat between posts; and a maple, which she found less comfortable than the others but a good place to watch over a large portion of the forest.
She slid her basket, which carried berries from the fourth post, closer to her shoulder before grasping a bulbous knob on the trunk of the willow and climbing up into the branches’ depths, welcoming the feel of the soft moss under her. Inside she had also woven living baskets out of the vines which hung around her, in which she stored her berries and other foods she collected. Leaves of plants she found along the ground hid the provisions from the sight of animals who might try to take them. Despite her love of the creatures of the woods, they were often bothersome when it came to stealing her food.
She sat in the moss, again wondering about what could have startled the animals so, when she noticed a particularly dark part of the sky. It might rain tomorrow, she thought, I should head for the pine copse in the morning. They will protect me from the elements. And perhaps if the sky clears, I can climb to the top of one and see if I can glean anything from the surroundings about what has happened here.
As she thought, she prepared a small supper for herself; a handful of wine berries and blackberries, walnuts, and salad greens. She ate in silence, for there were no birds nearby to call to nor dragons to paint the sky in flames. The dragons were boisterous, and she enjoyed watching them, for their scales gleamed in the setting sun, and their playful games of tag were exciting to watch. The sun was in the perfect position for them, but none were in the sky; they all hid in their caves like bears protecting their young from predators.
She knew how they felt, if not why, for she had hidden her powers from her village for years.
As a child, Acacia often felt out of place, but it wasn’t until she was eight that she learned of her powers. When she found a fledgling fallen out of its nest, she tended to it, for its wing was broken. But she did not care for it by mundane means; before she had picked it up, she tried to warm it, and in doing so, she discovered that she could wield a certain kind of magic; she could heal and rebuild the physical with a touch of her hand. Unfortunately, she did not have the proper knowledge, and although she healed the bird sufficiently enough for him to fly when he was grown, his wing was deformed and unsightly. She knew she could not let her powers become widely known, for she feared what might happen to her - or what might be expected of her - if others were to learn of her ability.
Soon the sun set, and she saw no reason to keep watch while she could see so little in the waning moon. She dreampt of mystically unrealistic ideas of what the animals were fearing, and not until dawn was upon the land did she rise.