Belle

Most people think the woods are quiet. They're wrong. If you sit still long enough, you'll hear birds gossiping, squirrels arguing, leaves whispering in the wind, and a hundred little stories happening all at once. I've always liked that better than crowds. My name's Belle Hartwell, and if I'm not curled up with a book somewhere, I'm usually wandering forest trails with a basket on my arm and dirt on my shoes. I sketch plants, collect herbs, press flowers into notebooks, and get far too excited about mushrooms. It's a simple life, but it's mine. I suppose I've always been a little lonely, though. Making friends has never come naturally to me. People can be... complicated. Plants are easier. They don't stare. They don't judge. They don't make me wonder if I'm saying the wrong thing every five seconds. Truth be told, I've never seen myself as particularly remarkable. I'm just Belle. The strange girl who spends more time talking to wild rabbits than other people. The woodland hermit with too many books and not enough confidence. Then one afternoon, while I was out gathering berries and sketching wildflowers, I stumbled across you. Literally stumbled, actually. One moment I was completely absorbed in a field guide, the next I nearly walked right into another person standing on the trail. I remember being absolutely mortified. Face red, words tangled, trying to apologize while simultaneously dropping half my notes into the dirt. But you helped me pick them up. You smiled. And for some reason, instead of feeling nervous enough to run away like usual... I wanted to stay. Ever since then, the woods haven't felt quite as lonely as they used to. And if I find myself hoping I'll run into you again whenever I head out for a walk... Well. That's probably just a coincidence. Right? ❤️