The fire popped and crackled in the cooling air, sending a steady stream of gray smoke up through the dense canopy of interlocking branches. Morwenna sat on the fallen log, her hands resting quietly on her knees.
The restlessness that had followed her all morning had finally disappeared, seemingly swallowed by the deep, ancient stillness of the forest. The scent of pine resin and damp earth filled the air, making her feel settled and at ease.
Saoirse stood, brushing stray leaves and bits of moss from her trousers.
"We aren't going to sit here all day, are we?"
Jack looked up from the glowing embers, a playful glint in his eyes. "Right. How about a game?"
"A game," Saoirse agreed, turning towards Morwenna. "A scavenger hunt, little monster."
Morwenna tilted her head, intrigued by the unfamiliar words. "What is that?"
"I give you a list of things to find in the woods." Saoirse pulled a crumpled piece of paper and a short pencil from her pocket. "I will write them down, and you have to find them."
Morwenna slid off the log, her trainers sinking into the thick, springy layer of dead leaves covering the ground.
"What things must I find?"
Saoirse crouched on the moss, balancing the paper on her knee as she began to write.
"Something smooth. Something rough. A red leaf."
She wrote each item in small, quick strokes.
"A Y-shaped stick. Three different kinds of pine cones. Something that makes a sound when you shake it. A feather. And a stone with a line on it."
Morwenna watched the list grow, her fingers twitching with anticipation.
"A feather," she repeated softly, her green eyes wide.
"If you can find one. They are quite easy to miss if you aren't looking carefully."
Jane rose from her spot beside the thick beech tree. "I will help her."
Jack stayed by the fire, adding a small, dry branch to the flames. "I will watch the camp and make sure no bears steal our tea."
Saoirse tore the paper in half and handed one piece to Morwenna and the other to Jane.
"First one back with everything wins."
"There isn't a prize, is there?" Jane asked with a small smile.
"Being first is prize enough."
Morwenna held her list tightly. The paper had grown soft from being in Saoirse's pocket, and the pencil marks were already beginning to smudge beneath her thumb. She looked at the first item.
Something smooth.
She headed towards the edge of the clearing, where the forest floor was a jumble of leaves, moss, and fallen branches. Crouching down, she ran her hand over the damp earth. Her fingers brushed against a gray, flat stone, worn smooth by years of rain and wind. She picked it up and found that it fitted perfectly in the center of her palm.
Something smooth.
She slipped it into her pocket, pleased with its weight.
Jane was already across the clearing, searching around a massive fallen log half-buried in emerald moss. Morwenna went in the opposite direction, towards a cluster of ferns whose tall fronds brushed against her shoulders. They were damp to the touch and smelled of rich earth.
Something rough.
She touched the bark of a nearby tree. It was certainly rough, but that seemed too easy. She continued searching, her eyes moving over the undergrowth until she spotted a dead branch lying on the ground. Its bark was peeling away in long, dry strips.
She picked it up. The exposed wood underneath was smooth, but the bark itself was scaly and coarse. It caught against the pads of her fingers. She broke off a piece and put it in her other pocket.
Y-shaped stick.
There were sticks everywhere, scattered across the forest floor like forgotten bones. Some were thin, others thick, while a few curved into strange, twisted shapes. Morwenna searched carefully until she found a branch that split into two, forming a shape like a slingshot or a very tall letter Y.
She picked it up. It was longer than her arm, so she dragged it behind her, its tip drawing a line through the brown leaves.
Jane was kneeling beside a pine tree farther away.
"Found the pine cones!" she called, holding a handful of brown treasures.
Morwenna glanced at her mother's collection and spotted three distinct shapes. One was long and thin, with tightly closed scales. Another was round and fat, its scales spread open like flower petals. The last was tiny, no bigger than her thumb.
She needed her own.
The pine tree near the edge of the clearing had plenty scattered around its base. Morwenna crouched and sorted through them, breathing in their woody scent until she found one of each kind. She held all three in her cupped hands, feeling the sharp edges of the scales against her skin.
A red leaf.
She looked up at the trees, but most of the leaves were still a deep, vibrant green. A few had begun turning pale yellow, but red was harder to find in this part of the woods.
She walked farther between the trees, away from the familiar light of the clearing. She passed a low bush with dark leaves and several more trees that showed no signs of changing color.
The light grew greener beneath the thick canopy, which almost seemed like a roof of emerald glass. A bird called somewhere high above her.
Then she spotted a vine climbing up the trunk of a gnarled tree. Its leaves were shaped like little hearts, and one of them was a brilliant, startling red. It reminded her of the inside of the watermelon they had shared the night before.
She reached up and plucked it. The stem broke with a soft, clean snap.
A feather.
She hadn't seen any birds since the one that had greeted them earlier. Morwenna stood still, holding her breath as she listened to the wind moving through the leaves and the faint crackle of the fire in the distance.
A quiet chirp sounded, followed by another.
She looked up and spotted a small gray-brown bird perched on a high branch. Its tail twitched as it watched her.
Then it took flight, a tiny shape drifting through the green canopy. Morwenna held out her hand, and the bird landed on her palm.
It was gray with a white tip, delicate and softer than anything she had ever touched. She carefully slipped the feather into her pocket beside the smooth stone, making sure not to crush it.
For the object that made a sound, she found a dried seed pod. It was brown and brittle, and when she shook it, the seeds inside clicked against its walls in a steady little rhythm.
Finally, she found a stone with a thin white line running across it, like a crack that hadn't quite broken through the surface.
By the time she returned to the clearing, Jane was already there. Her findings were spread across a flat log, and Saoirse was examining them.
Morwenna walked over and emptied her pockets, arranging her treasures beside the others: the smooth stone, the rough bark, the Y-shaped stick, three pine cones, the red leaf, the feather, the seed pod, and the stone with the white line.
Saoirse looked over the collection, then up at Morwenna.
"You found every single one."
"Yes."
"Even the feather. Well done."
Morwenna picked up the gray feather with its white tip and held it up to the light. Jane touched it gently.
"That's from a chickadee."
"What is a chickadee?"
"A bird. A small one. They say their own name. Chick-a-dee-dee-dee."
Morwenna looked at the feather again.
Chickadee.
She repeated the name silently and decided it suited the small, busy bird perfectly.
Saoirse clapped her hands once.
"Now we make something with our treasures."
She pulled a paper plate and a glue stick from the basket. The glue was bright purple, though Saoirse promised it would dry clear.
"We are going to make a collage. Everything you found can go on the plate."
Morwenna looked at her collection. "All of it?"
"Whatever fits."
She picked up the glue stick. The purple paste felt thick and waxy as she spread it across the back of the red leaf and pressed it onto the plate. Its edges curled slightly, but it stayed in place.
The feather came next.
She handled it very carefully, spreading glue only along the quill before pressing it down. Its soft barbs caught against her fingers. She broke the bark into smaller pieces and arranged them around the edges like a frame.
The smooth stone was too heavy for the glue, so she set it beside the plate to keep it safe.
Saoirse then handed her a handful of smooth, flat stones from the basket.
"Here. You can paint these if you like."
Morwenna picked one up. It was a clean, pale gray and cool against her skin. Jane brought out a small box of bright paints: red, blue, yellow, and green.
Morwenna dipped a thin brush into the red paint and made a tiny dot on the stone. Then she added another dot and a line. At first, she had no particular idea of what she wanted to paint. She was simply enjoying the feeling of the wet paint gliding over the stone.
Gradually, the red marks became a circle, and the circle turned into a face. She added two dots for eyes and a wobbly line for a mouth.
"A rock person," Saoirse observed.
Morwenna studied her creation. The face was lopsided, and its eyes were uneven, but she thought it had a certain charm.
She painted another stone blue with large yellow spots and decided it was a bug. Then she painted a third one green, adding a crooked red stripe to make it a snake.
Jane was painting, too. Her lines were much straighter and neater. She made a delicate flower, a sturdy tree, and a bird in flight.
Saoirse didn't paint. She simply watched with her chin resting on one hand, her eyes moving between Morwenna's busy, paint-stained fingers and the growing collection of stones.
Morwenna picked up a fourth stone, darker than the others and almost brown. She painted it yellow, then added a white circle with a black dot in the middle.
An eye.
She painted another one, then added a nose and a mouth. The face began to resemble someone she knew, though she couldn't quite put her finger on who.
The light gradually changed as they worked. The soft gold deepened into a rich, heavy orange, and long shadows stretched across the clearing. The sun was sinking behind the thick trees.
Jack stood beside the fire ring and added several larger branches, coaxing the flames higher until their warm, flickering light spread across the camp.
Saoirse began unpacking the rest of the basket: foil, a sharp knife, chocolate, marshmallows, and a bundle of small potatoes and carrots wrapped in a clean cloth.
"Dinner," she announced. "A proper campfire dinner."
She arranged the ingredients on a flat stone. Morwenna knelt beside her, her fingers still sticky with dried purple glue and smudges of paint.
"Everyone gets their own little packet," Saoirse explained. "You choose exactly what goes inside."
Morwenna picked up a small potato with thin, dusty skin and placed it on a square of foil. She added a carrot and a slice of onion, which fell apart into rings in her hand. Saoirse showed her how to add a small piece of butter and a generous pinch of salt before folding the foil over the vegetables and crimping the edges shut.
"Like a parcel," Morwenna said.
"Like a present for your stomach." Saoirse folded her own packet. "And into the fire it goes."
Jack pushed the burning logs to one side, making room for a bed of glowing embers. Saoirse placed the foil packets directly on the hot coals, using a long stick to nudge them towards the center. The foil shone orange in the firelight.
"Now we wait for the magic to happen."
Next came the banana boats.
Saoirse handed Morwenna a banana that was still slightly green near the stem.
"Cut it open down the middle, but don't cut all the way through the skin at the bottom."
Morwenna picked up the small wooden-handled knife and carefully pressed it into the peel. It split with a soft pop. She gently opened the cut like a little pocket and stuffed it with chocolate chips and tiny, fluffy marshmallows until the banana was almost bursting. Then she wrapped the whole thing in foil, just like the dinner packets.
The vegetable packets came out of the fire first, their undersides blackened with soot. Saoirse transferred them to a flat rock to cool.
"Careful, chérie," Jane warned. "They are very hot."
Morwenna waited as steam escaped from the little parcels, carrying the rich smell of melted butter and roasted onions.
Jack opened his first. The vegetables spilled onto his plate, soft and steaming. He blew on a piece of potato before taking a bite.
"Good," he said with a nod.
Morwenna opened hers. The carrots had softened, and the potatoes were hot and crumbly. Everything was coated in melted butter. She ate with her fingers, barely minding the heat because the food tasted so wonderful out in the open air.
They settled on the fallen log with their backs towards the tent, eating in comfortable silence as the forest grew darker and the stars slowly appeared overhead.
The banana boats were the final treat. Saoirse unwrapped one and peeled back the charred skin. Inside, the chocolate and marshmallows had melted into a bubbling, sticky mixture that blended with the soft banana.
"Try it," Saoirse said, handing Morwenna a spoon.
Morwenna scooped up a bite. The banana was almost liquid, and the melted chocolate and stretchy marshmallow made it wonderfully sweet.
Saoirse grinned at the expression on her face.
"That's the one."
"What face?"
"The 'this is the best thing I have ever eaten' face."
Morwenna happily finished every last bit of the sticky treat.
As the fire burned down to glowing red coals, Saoirse went to the tent and returned with a flashlight.
"Shadow show. Watch the wall."
She sat on the ground facing the tent and switched on the light. Its beam cast a bright circle against the canvas. Saoirse held her hand in front of it, shaping her fingers into a bird. They became wings, opening and closing as she moved them.
"Caw. Caw, caw."
Morwenna watched in fascination as the bird flew across the canvas before disappearing. Saoirse then curled her fingers into the shape of a dog, opening and closing its mouth as she made a playful barking sound.
Morwenna sat down beside her, her own shadow appearing on the tent wall.
"Show me how."
Saoirse handed her the flashlight. "Make a shape. Anything you like."
Morwenna's small hands struggled to form a bird.
"Try a snake," Saoirse suggested. "That's easier."
Morwenna flattened her hand and waved it in front of the beam. A long, twisting shadow appeared on the canvas.
"Sss," she hissed, watching it move as though it were alive.
Jane joined them, using her larger hands to make a rabbit with long, floppy ears. It hopped across the canvas as she moved her fingers. Jack made a bear, his broad hand casting an enormous shadow. He even added a low growl from his throat.
Morwenna burst into laughter. The sound rang brightly through the quiet woods.
They continued making shadows until their hands grew tired and the flashlight beam began to wobble. At last, they returned to the fire, where the remaining warmth settled gently around them.
Jane spread a thick blanket on the ground.
"Stories now. Lie down."
Morwenna lay back, feeling the firmness of the earth beneath the blanket. Cinder curled against her side, his warmth passing through her shirt. Above the clearing, the trees blocked most of the sky, but a gap in the canopy revealed a patch of darkness scattered with tiny points of light.
"Look up," Saoirse said. "What do you see in the heavens?"
"Stars," Morwenna whispered.
There were thousands of them, far more than she had ever seen in London or even at the manor. They seemed to shine with a light of their own, bright and clear against the darkness.
"Try connecting them," Jack said. "Find a shape that belongs to you."
Morwenna squinted at the scattered lights.
"That one, and that one, and that one. It's a triangle."
She studied it for another moment before pointing.
"A witch's hat!"
"Good. What about those over there?" Jack pointed towards another cluster.
"A fish," Morwenna decided. "The tail is there, and the head is over there."
Saoirse laughed. "Now that you mention it, I can see it."
They spent the next hour finding shapes among the stars. There was a boat, a tree, and a cat without a tail. Morwenna invented names for the more confusing clusters, too. There was The Spilled Milk, The Broken Ladder, and The Frog Who Lost His Foot.
Jane pointed towards a group of stars.
"That's the Big Dipper. See? Four stars make the bowl, and three more form the handle."
Morwenna followed her finger. Once Jane gave it a name, the shape became much easier to see.
"And that's the North Star, at the end of the handle," Jane continued. "Sailors used it to find their way home when crossing the sea."
Morwenna looked at the star. It seemed steadier than the others, shining with a constant light.
"Can we use it if we get lost?"
"If we know how to read it," Jack answered. "I will teach you. Someday soon."
Saoirse began singing. Her voice was low and gentle, carrying a slow melody that Morwenna had never heard before. The words were not English or French. They sounded older, deeper, as though they belonged to a time long before any of them were born. The tune seemed to blend with the soft crackling of the dying fire.
Jack joined her with his rougher, deeper voice, while Jane hummed along.
Morwenna listened to their voices weaving together. Her eyelids grew heavy, and the stars above began to blur.
When the song ended, Saoirse turned towards her.
"Your turn."
Morwenna shook her head, her voice thick with sleep. "I don't know any songs."
"Anyone can sing. Just make something up from your heart."
Morwenna thought about the warmth of the fire, the bright stars above, and the soft weight of the fox curled beside her. Then she opened her mouth and let the words come.
"Stars are high. Fire is low. Forest is dark, but we aren't alone."
Her voice was small, but she repeated the lines, finding a simple rhythm as she went. Saoirse joined in, her voice weaving around Morwenna's tune. Then Jane and Jack joined them, too.
Four voices and a fox, singing together beneath a sky full of stars.
Eventually, the fire dwindled to a bed of glowing embers. Jane stood and stretched her back.
"Bedtime."
Morwenna didn't want to leave the warmth of the blanket, but Jane helped her up. Her legs felt stiff, and her eyes were heavy with sleep. Together, they crawled into the tent, where the groundsheet felt rough and cool beneath them.
Cinder found his usual place at Morwenna's feet, and Jack pulled the entrance closed. The canvas walls still held a faint glow from the dying fire outside.
Morwenna lay on her back, thinking about the witch's hat and the fish she had found among the stars.
"Tomorrow," she whispered into the darkness, "we find the stream."
"Tomorrow," Jack promised.
The forest settled into silence around them. Outside, the last embers continued to fade, and Cinder's breathing gradually slowed against her feet.
Before long, Morwenna had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep.
= = =
There's images below
---
Since I'm in the mood to chat, I want to talk a bit about my concept for the SI in this fic, and my MCs in general.
Like I mentioned before, she's basically an incarnation, a shard of a higher being… "me." So of course, she carries parts of my personality, hobbies, and traits. But she isn't completely me. Her personality is also shaped by her family, her environment, and everything around her.
Because of that "higher being" aspect, she has a certain sense of detachment. It lets her ignore things easily, or even act in ways that lean toward cruelty without feeling much guilt.
At the same time, she grows up surrounded by love, so those traits never fully take over. Instead, they blend with everything else that shapes her.
That's why I see her as a morally grey character. She isn't truly evil, but she will never be on the "good" side either.
Later on, you might run into moments where you just want to smack some sense into her.
She can be really annoying. Honestly, sometimes worse than Draco or the other kids. But she can also be gentle, responsible, surprisingly soft and thoughtful in certain situations.
In my eyes, she's a very complex character. I just hope I can portray that clearly in the story. I've spent years researching, planning her development, and building her personality, mapping her path… it would hurt if none of that comes through to you.
Since we're talking about MCs, I want to introduce another OC of mine. She's still in the research stage, and even her basic character profile isn't fully complete yet.
Her name is Xiao Hanying (萧涵瑛).
"Xiao" is her family name. "Han" (涵) carries the meaning of depth, restraint, or inner composure, often linked to something vast like water. "Ying" (瑛) refers to a kind of luminous jade or crystal, something clear and precious. Put together, her name gives the impression of someone refined, calm on the surface, but quietly radiant underneath.
She will be the main character of my original work. Not fanfiction this time. It's going to be xianxia.
The premise is still transmigration. Honestly, most of my SI stories will use that trope. If you want more details, you can check the character sheet document I shared before.
In short, she transmigrates into a novel she read. But instead of becoming an existing character, she enters that world as herself, within the same setting and timeline.
If Morwenna's "curse" shows through her frost magic, then for Hanying, it manifests in her physique. You can probably guess what that means.
Yes… a pure yin body. The kind often treated as a furnace or cauldron.
The sect she eventually joins is the Hehuan Sect, where she focuses on charm and illusion techniques. Her weapon will be something tied to music, either a qin or a flute. I haven't fully decided yet.
She'll also develop a bit of a "green tea" personality. Not from childhood, but gradually, as she leaves her original home and steps into the wider world. I think that shift will make things more interesting. She'll end up with quite a few admirers… completely wrapped around her finger.
That's all I can share about her for now. And yes, it will be F/F. Of course it is.
So… does she catch your interest?
I hope you'll grow curious about Hanying too. Maybe she'll appear a few years from now, once I've done enough research and found the right rhythm for Morwenna's story.
I hope, when that time comes, you'll care about and come to like her just as much as you do about Morwenna.