Several days had passed since she had first caught a fish in the river, something which was no longer possible for her as the river had grown several times in width and depth during her journey and no longer had the steep drops she’d needed. Instead she had been forced to turn her attention to the forest surrounding her as she continued her journey.

Figuring out what she could eat had not been an easy endeavor, her knowledge was very clear that she couldn’t eat something if it wasn’t something she already knew was edible, which to be honest wasn’t very much. Even if she discounted all the… purple. What she actually managed to identify tended to be plants that distinctly lacked anything she could actually eat. She had looked longingly at several odd looking fruit trees and berry bushes she had passed when walking on the riverbank but the moment her resolve had begun breaking down her upper back grew hot and her chest cold as her breathing quickened as her scalp grew tingly as she fought the increasing urge to run. The only that made the awful feelings go away was to physically walk away from the formerly tempting food.

And so she had continued walking along the river despite her growing hunger pains while keeping her eyes peeled for anything her knowledge would consider edible. It was on her second day without eating that her eyes caught something. An odd feeling bubbled up inside of her as she found herself frozen, looking past the many purple tinged trunks and undergrowth to where she had seen it. She broke out into a run, not caring if she once again tore up the fragile soles of her feet which she had begun taking great care with. Because they honestly did not matter in this moment as she fell to her knees, probably tearing them up as well, reaching out to touch the soft green leaves with trembling fingers. She recognized it, even if she couldn’t put a name to it at the moment. It was lying unnaturally on it’s side it’s still partially curled leaves slightly wilted and it’s brown roots exposed to the air.

She wound up sitting by the river for what remained of the day holding the fern, for that’s what it was, while carefully studying it as the red sun chased the blue one towards the horizon. What had initially given her hope now only filled her with dread after further inspection. The plant had seemed perfect with its dark green leaves and lighter stem. The issue, she had found, was the roots. Even if you discounted the fact that the vast majority of the thin strands had been exposed to the air, with not even a speck of dirt on them and no ends torn from having been dug up you couldn’t look past the ones that hadn’t been exposed. In her haste to get a closer look at the fern she had picked it up without noting that it wasn’t entirely free of the ground. She had been horrified at the thought that she had damaged something so precious when she had felt the slight tug only to have her thought processes come to a halt at the thin, damaged and very purple roots she had just pulled out of the ground.

She kicked at the water surrounding her aching feet. It was stupid, but she felt betrayed by the plant, it was supposed to be free of all the wrongness that seemed to have infected everything else, for that was the way she viewed it, an infection. She unclenched the hand that had been gripping strangling the poor plant and took a closer look at it. It really was only a few of the roots an they were already all torn up so what was a little more damage? It took her a little while to untangle the delicate strands without breaking any of the brown and white ones but eventually she managed. Then she began to carefully pinch off any that had a purple hue to them until she was left with a plant that was the colours it was supposed to be. Now she just had to make sure it had everything it needed to thrive, something she apparently knew how to do. Placing the fern to the side she began pulling out a nearby tuft of grass on the riverbank.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

It took her some time until she had a deep enough hole to accommodate the roots, and when she was done her hands were aching. Despite this she continued by pulling out the surrounding grass tufts until she had a circle as wide as the length of both her arms cleared of all vegetation. She didn’t want anything purple anywhere near the fern. Placing the the roots of the plant in the hole she began to carefully backfill around them, ignoring the twinges of pain whenever the new grass cuts on her hands made contact with brown dirt. She patted the small mound of earth surrounding the stem before she attempted to water it, something which took her walking the few steps between the river and the plant several times with her cupped hands trying and failing to contain the majority of the water each time. Eventually she deemed herself done and went to clean her new cuts, something her knowledge assured her was very important. She didn’t particularly mind this as she had grown quite fond of swimming, so that was what she did for the rest of the day, ignoring the pangs of hunger until they faded away into nausea.

The next morning she was finding it particularly hard to continue her journey . She knew she couldn’t stay where where she was but she was reluctant to leave the one green thing she had found. She spent som time just watching it trying to imagine that the purple surrounding the circle of earth was as green as the purple as the fern it contained. Why was it that everything was that everything was purple? Well that wasn’t exactly true she thought as she began to mentally count off the things that weren’t purple. The sky, the mountains in the distance, the rocks, her and any animals she’d managed to catch a glimpse of and the earth. In reality the only things that actually were purple were the plants and even that had its exceptions with the the mountain trees and the fern. Well partially the fern, the roots she pulled out of the ground had been purple after all. The ground.. the two words resounded in her thoughts as the realization dawned upon her. With a few quick steps she was at the fern and yanking it out of with no care for any damage she was causing it. Staring at the now partially purple roots a sense of betrayal filled her and she screamed as she threw the now tainted fern in the river. Her screaming gave way into wailing as her shoulders began shaking and she fell down to her knees on the riverbank. She found she didn’t like crying very much though and gulped down air in order to scream instead that seemed so much more satis-

“Whatcha makin’ such a ruckus for?”