Those around me have begun to grow old. For 30 years I have lived in this village, calling it home and those within it as near to family as I might claim. Those villagers I have come to love most are aging and dieing around me, despite the ministrations I offer as healing woman. It can no longer fail to be noticed that, although I have aged my appearance, I do not grow weak and frail. Some have begun to whisper witch, and I can no longer remain without disturbing the peace of their lives.
Earlier this day I have caused my body to appear as dead. No pulse or breath detectable by human eye or ear escaped me. They buried me quickly as I had no kin to keep my body. Now, in the depth of night, I have dug my way out of my shallow grave. I have paused to recover the earth, and I make way for the thickest of the forest, to seek new guidance from my mother, nature.
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