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The first decision she made when she felt safe on both her legs was to leave the house

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She had long heard the wind whisper her name and seemed to understand the song of the little blackbird that landed on her window. 

Her mother and grandmother watched her from the porch with a carefree air, as if they knew that moment would have arrived sooner or later.

She advanced several steps safely and descended the four steps that separated her from the garden. 

She looked up and caught the presence of her sister on a branch of the old willow.

An old wooden swing hung on the tree.

They never used it. 

Her sister preferred to sway herself from the branches like a wild monkey and she could perfectly understand why. 

The eldest smiled when she heard her little voice and with the jump of a wild lynx landed on the wet grass.

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She took her by the hand and led her through the path that led to the forest. 

They were not afraid.  

The forest was getting deep, almost dark, and she knew she had returned home. 

All the women of the family were tied to that land since ancient times.

She could also smell the various roots hidden in the undergrowth and perceive the tingling of the tiny creatures crawling through the moss.  

 The spirits of her ancestors sang a song whose melody she recognized as her true language. 

They were not alone.The light from the sun slipped with difficulty between the branches of the trees.

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Moisture penetrated her nostrils, and she knew the river was close. 

She saw the signal her sister gave her an instant before she let go of her hand.

She heard her war cry and felt the electricity coming from her feet on the run.

She felt her heartbeat accelerating inside her chest and adopted a feline look.

She was only two years old, but she had been playing the game for centuries. 

 A primitive, wild, scream emerged from her throat a second before launching herself to a run following in the footsteps of her sister. 

Volatile footprints of remote nymphs

 The hunt had begun…