The air was still.
A thin shimmer moved across the sky and fell quietly into the trees.
The woman was walking with a basket in her hand when she saw it.
Something small had landed in the clearing below.
She didn't speak.
She just ran.
There, wrapped in white cloth, lay a baby.
She was crying.
Not loud. But steady.
The woman knelt beside her.
She reached down, gently, and picked her up.
> "Shhh..."
She tried to calm her.
She rocked her.
She held her close.
> "It's alright. You're alright."
Still the baby cried.
And then - she laughed.
A short, soft laugh. Just once.
The woman blinked.
Then she laughed too.
She carried the baby home.
A small house with one door and quiet walls.
She made a place for her to sleep.
She lit the fire.
She gave her food.
And when the baby slept, the woman sat at the table.
She wrote a letter.
She folded it.
Tied it with string.
Opened the door.
A bird landed nearby.
She gave it the letter.
It flew away.
The next morning, the baby woke first.
She didn't cry.
She didn't laugh.
She just looked up at the woman beside her.
And blinked.
End of Chapter 8 - The Woman and the Wings