Mother Nature & Amiel

        There once was a girl who loved nature.  She cared for the trees, the plants, the animals, and insects. She lived in the forests of South America. In the deepest part of the jungle, no man has ever set foot. And nobody knows there's a girl who lives in a den somewhere in the mass of unexplored trees.

       She didn't know who her mother was, or even her father. She grew up with nature to care for her, so when she was capable enough, she cared for it. 

     To her, nature is her mother, and her father, and the plants, animals, trees, insects, are her siblings. 

      She sleeps in a den with a family of foxes, they help her hunt food, and she considers the young foxes her closest brothers and sisters.

       "Don't chew on that, little one. It will make your mouth itch." She says to the youngest one who was sniffing at a bush of poison ivy.

        "I wasn't gonna, big sister." He whines.           

        The girl laughs and goes about picking her flowers. She spent all spring tending to them, climbing the trees overhead to hack down a couple branches for a patch of sunlight, and bringing water from the river nearby. 

        She makes flower crowns for all of her fox brothers and sisters and even one for their mother. She exempts one for the father, because he likes to think of himself as very manly and is out hunting at the moment.

       After she places the flower crowns on their heads, she goes to walk around on the barely visible paths that have been worn throughout the jungle from her going the same way multiple times. She goes to hunt a squirrel or two for her to cook and eat.      

      After she kills the poor thing she apologizes to Mother Nature and after eating says a prayer to her, while burying the bones.

      On the way back, she bumps into the father fox and they walk back together, telling each other of their day. 

     "Father, I had to tell Jim not to eat a bushel of poison ivy, shouldn't he be learning what not to eat by now? I'm a little concerned."

      "Now, Amiel. What did I say about calling me that?"

      "That I don't have to. But! You're the man that practically raised me! How could I not call you my Father?"

       "The whole forest raised you. You just happen to live in our den. Amiel, you don't have to call me your Father, in fact, you shouldn't."

        "But-" before Amiel could say anything, she gets caught off guard by the fox's yip of disapproval.

        "No buts, young lady. I understand that you think of us as your closest family, but you are Nature's child. You weren't born like your species should've been. We forest creatures found you as a baby, in a clearing after a bright flash of light. A cradle made of vines held you, you were wrapped in the giant leaves of Mother Nature's ferns. You are her child."

       "You never told me this before. I'm made from Nature herself? But.. how does that work?"

      "Mother Nature can do many wonderful things. You are an example. As much as I love you, Amiel, I cannot fully think of you as my own. You aren't anybody's, besides Nature's child."

       "So what will happen when I die?"

       "This is a question I do not want to think about. Now, go into the den. It's getting dark, and I need to feed the family. You caught something already?"

        "Yes. I had two squirrels."

        "Cooked them properly?"

        "Yes."

        "Prayed to Mother Nature while burying what was left?"

        "Yes."

        "Alright. Bedtime now, Amiel." And she swears she hears him mutter "grew up too fast" while she walked into the den, to the farthest part of the dim space. Her spot. She collected many things as a child, but when she moved onto other things, she got rid of the old things, to save space. Her corner is now covered in pelts, makes for a comfy bed, at least. She curls up and falls asleep as her family eat and curl up next to her for sleep. The sunlight long replaced by moonlight.