1999. Your first breath is an early summer breeze. Cradled in your mothers arms, under the shade of the same tree that saw the birth of your father, his mother. Warm and soft and crying, you don’t know how to glamour just yet. Not for another couple hours. But you are safe, and wanted and that is enough. One look into your eyes and you are named Evergreen, it’s as much praise as it is hope. 

2004. The Isle is your playground, up and down grass covered hills, barefoot in forest creeks. You can spread your wings freely and not worry about a thing. Under the watchful eye of the family guard dog- Nettle, the worst that ever happens is a scrapped knee or a bruised elbow. Fear isn’t something familiar to you. 

2005. You have a sister now. It wasn't the first time someone had come to stay, but this was different. She was little, littler than you. Mum said she was Fae, like you, but you couldn’t see it at first, pallid skin and stringy hair, she was sharp in the wrong places. She had feathers and they were… off, like a sick baby bird. You almost asked where her wings were but one look from Grannie and you know better. Her name is Allie, mum tells you, while Grannie is getting the little sprout of a girl cleaned up. She is your responsibility, be a good girl mum says, look after her. And so you intend to. 

2007. Two years since you became a big sister, and you love it. The little sprout isn’t as little anymore. Her colour eventually came in as her cheeks filled out, returning to health under the careful hands of the Kanes. It was like she had always been there. Days busy with causing trouble and exploring the Isle together- Nettle in tow to make sure things don’t get too crazy. Finally you feel like you have someone that can keep up with you.  

2009. You take your place in the family very seriously. You help with everything, from laundry to yardwork, running errands to cooking. There is almost no better feeling than a job well done- no matter how tired it makes you sometimes. You don’t know how to help when Grandad dies. It’s the best that you can do to keep from crying, no one seems to like it when you cry. Not mum or dad, not Allie. And Grannie was in no shape to be consoling you. So you keep a calm face, you’re mature for your age afterall. It’s only when you can get time away, maybe an hour, maybe two- that the forest accepts you in, alone. You find a place and let it all out, it helps. Eventually these little escapes become your own little ritual.    

2011. Pain like this shouldn’t exist. It’s wrong. Burning, searing, blinding. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep. You were only supposed to be gone an hour at most. But now you were bleeding, attacked by something, someone. You are too busy screaming to really notice at first when Allie finds you- covered in moss that has started to grow over top of you- protecting you. You don’t want her to see this, she doesn’t need to see this. You want to hide from her- but a sudden thought fills the parts of you that aren’t already in agony. Why can’t I feel my wings? You try to move them and only pain responds. Dad gets to you first- attempting to quiet your scream while you beg for answers. His arms don’t provide the safety they should anymore. Unconsciousness takes you before you get back to the house. 

2012. You’ve been numb for months, the only thing you feel is the emptiness on your back, your attacker hadn’t just taken your wings, but the skin along with them. Mum ended up taking you away. You can remember hearing her and dad yelling at each other through the walls. It’s your fault. She lets you keep in touch with Allie and Grannie through letters but it isn’t enough. You can’t say sorry in a letter in any way that matters. It’s different in North Carolina- the forests are darker, the air is thicker- harder to breathe. There is a court for Wildlings here. Mum clearly thinks that makes Wildlings here better. For almost a whole year the only time you speak is to argue this fact. And remind her that Grannie was trying. For centuries Grannie had been trying. She’s usually just so happy you spoke that she ignores the actual words. 

2015. Going out on your own doesn’t happen often. Even when it does it isn’t for long, and you usually have to keep in touch somehow. It’s exhausting, but you do it to keep mum happy. It’s easier when  mum is happy. The pain never really went away, but you learned to ignore it. Still you find yourself trying to flex wings that are no longer there. Every time you are reminded- you feel more hollow than the last.

2020. Adulthood does not bring freedom the way you thought it would. Reluctant to stay stateside you find yourself with no choice. Even if you could afford it, the universe seems reluctant to allow any simple pleasures. You still find a way to make do. There is more opportunity to go outside now. Though these trees are not familiar to you they are welcoming enough. You manage to find some sort of peace again in solitude. During one of these excursions you happen across an abandoned baby raccoon. You can’t speak with it, but you can understand each other well enough when you offer warmth and safety to the small, abandoned creature. Taking her home with you and hoping she survives the night. 

2025. The racoon is still with you. Now your familiar after being nursed back to health by your hands. You name her Sage and she might be the only good thing that has come from living in this place. You couldn’t say every day was bad- many days were perfectly fine, but this wasn’t home. The air was still hard to breathe and you still didn’t like how your mum spoke about dad and home. You fight with her more now. Discontent with her using your wounds as an excuse for her behavior. She was suffocating you with her own fears. You were never going to fully get better with her around. 

2026. One letter is all it takes. You know the minute it arrives that something is wrong. The envelope and stationary missing its usual glitter and adornments. The contents make your stomach sick. Grannie's age seems to be catching up with her. You aren’t terribly surprised. Especially with so little help with both the estate and her political efforts. You don’t bother writing a response because it wouldn’t get there in time. You pack a couple boxes to be sent and what takes the longest is getting travel papers for Sage. But you manage, having realized that waiting to be ready was pointless; you just needed to get home. When you realize you are landing on Allie's birthday. You make a point to grab her favorite pastries from the bakery you two used to frequent. You hope it’s enough on short notice.