Woodcarving was a skill Zoeya didn't even know she had, one she discovered when she was almost twenty. She discovered it when she was bored, stuck up in a tree awaiting for the wolves to pass. Boredom began to settle into her as she began to carve into the tree. After several hours, the wolves began to leave and Zoeya had carved a face into the side of the tree. She began to pick up little pieces of wood after that, carving whenever she was bored. Perhaps it was a skill she learned or acquired from her father, but Zoeya didn't know or care.
As Zoeya sat one day in the days of her lonely youth, she carved for she had nothing else to do. Not that she could socialize with theres and carry on conversations. As Zoeya carved, the face began to form, with delicate features. Eyes the size of an ant, the nose protruding out, rounded at the edge. Zoeya then moved the knife to where the mouth would be as she began to whittle away the shape. As she carved, Zoeya hummed softly to herself. It was an odd tune one she never heard before, yet she somehow knew it. Though Zoeya always passed it off as something she made up when she was little to hide herself from things that scared her.
Just as the face began to be completed on the small block of wood in her hand, the light began to dim around Zoeya. She looked up at the sky, watching it turn a dark purplish blue as she puffed her cheeks out. There was no way to carve in the dark anyway, so with that, Zoeya pushed herself to her feet, moving to scurry up the nearby tree. She perched up on one of the higher branches, tying herself into place with her leather branches. As she looked up at the sky, she closed her eyes, letting in a deep breath as she drifted off to sleep.
Zoeya half expected drifting off into a fiery nightmare like most nights. Where flames echoed around her, swallowing over her body before dropping her into a dark, empty pit covered in dark slime where she began to drown. However, this night was one of the few nights Zoeya's dreams were considerably pleasant. Dancing through a field with her sister, the face she recognized as her father chasing after her. He had a beard, one that was very long. His hair was fuzzy and a deep, dark shade of brown. However, his eyes were the same bright blue as Zoeya's. She was able to see her tribe, not that it was a very pretty place, but she felt comfortable. The entire time, a voice singing in her head in the same tune as she hummed to herself.
'From earth to trees to water,
the world is not a scary place,
do not fret and do not fear,
for I will forever be your chase.
My little girl, you are safe,
you are home no matter where
as long as you can climb and laugh,
it does not matter that life is not fair.'
It was the sound her father's voice, singing to her. A lullaby of her past, soothing her now in her slumbers. Zoeya never could remember the words consciously for the past several years, but the words came flooding back as quickly as they faded. Daylight broke, and Zoeya opened her eyes. Morning came in cold waves as she scurried down the tree, looking over the camp she had spent the past five or six years living in. She then turned, lifting her satchel up from the ground as she left, making her way through the woods to find a new home.
The camp brought too many bad memories, too many sorrows. It was time to move on, just as everyone else had. If she was going to be alone, Zoeya decided she was to be alone in a place that she choose of. It took her a few days as she wandered through the forests before she found a little island north of Far Chetwood she claimed as home. At least that area had plenty of cliffs and trees to climb, and did not remind her of her family.
