The Great Wood has long since overtaken the world, where there is not forest, there is water, and nothing else. She had come, Nature’s Queen. Deep within the heart of the Wood walks the goddess of the earth, said to breathe life into the ever-growing towering trees, the creeping green that consumes all that is not natural.
She is tall and transplendent, this Lady. A soft, small smile forever upon her pales lips as she gazes down with golden eyes ringed with black. Her hair, long and silver, is set with precious glimmering stars, framing her face as it spills from beneath her crown. Distant fires she had plucked from the sky, making room for her children to grow.
Atop her head rests a large skull; it’s front jagged teeth hanging just above her eyelashes, with three large dark eye sockets and various small jagged horns twisting around it’s barren scalp. She holds her head high, seemingly unbothered by the weight of the bone.
Her skin, once pale, is stained with the earth, dark browns and vibrant greens paint her arms and shoulders and neck, while her feet appear drenched in ink. She dresses in nothing but a ragged, possibly once white sleeveless gown, thorn speckled vines curling, reaching up from the hem, to drape over her shoulders. While at her hips flowers grow, beautiful and large, splashes of vibrant colors, violently contrasting with the rest of her appearance.
She walks, new growth blooming with every step, every exhale, through her kingdom. Quietly, softly, unconcerned. As her children, the flowers and trees and gruesome weeds spread, coiling around the animals, choking out the pockets of humanity that managed to linger on the shores, in the caves.
Surviving only by the skin of their teeth, the last of humanity makes it’s move for the sea, rushing across the moss, hiding in the hollows of the massive fallen trees. Praying that the Queen will overlook them.
The land had had enough of it’s mammal guests, its bipedal children. It had summoned this dark and gentle Queen from her sleep, to bring balance back to its greying limbs. It had not expected her to react so swiftly. So violently.
The land weeps, unheard, ignored. This Goddess is not yet satisfied. Will not be for centuries to come. The earth can only hope that it’s evolved children will learn quickly, will thrive without it’s direct influence beneath the water. Until the Goddess slips into sleep once again.