Ellette was in her own little world. A place inside of her mind that, for whatever reason, seemed to offer so much more than what her three sisters were doing to occupy themselves. She had not put a great deal of distance between her sisters and herself—the distinct crunching of snow beneath their feet could be heard if she bothered to listen closely—but it was enough to hint that she preferred the solitude she created.

Not that she understood entirely why she wanted to be alone. It had been, after all, the night of all nights. The full moon was still high in the sky, and her body still tingled with the warmth of her people's light. The last thing she should have been doing was distancing herself, but it seemed the appropriate thing to do while her Father's earlier words refused to leave her mind.

'You are the youngest, Ellette, but do not mistake your position for one deserving of lenience. Your Mother encourages your curious nature, but I will not. It ends now. Before you shame the entire family. Before you shame our people.'

The 'curious nature' to which her Father referred was Ellette's inability of rejecting the aspects of life that did not pertain to her or her people.

She loved her kind; there was no question about that. And every month when the full moon was perched high in the sky, and the songs of praise and gratitude were sung loud and proud, she had never been more honoured to belong to such a family. But that night was always only one night. And for all of the nights that followed it until that next one night, Ellette could not help herself from dreaming of what else laid beyond where her eyes could see, beyond where her voice could reach and beyond where her mind could imagine. She longed to know what else was out there in the world that inhabited so many, yet made her feel so alone.

"Come on, Ellie! Sing it with us!" Raisie, the closest to Ellette in age as she was the third daughter, shouted.

Even though her back was turned to her sisters, Ellette sensed the smile that was undoubtedly placed upon her sister's face.

"Yes, please do, Ellie!" Nissa, Raisie's twin and Ellette's second eldest sister, requested. "It cannot be a proper harmony without you, you know that. Tell her, Freya! Tell her to sing with us!"

"Tell her, Freya! Tell her!"

Their giggles erupted from the otherwise silent night, and although Ellette was determined not to give in, not even she could deny the smile that slipped past her lips.

"Come on, Ellette. Will you not slow down and join us?" Freya, the eldest, finally chimed in.

Though Ellette loved all of her sisters dearly, Freya had always been the sister with whom she was closest. With only four years of age between them, the two sisters often found solace in each other, and, more often than not, were forced to pair up in order to handle the twins.

Born the eldest certainly should have granted Freya the role as leader, whose judgment was always right and never to be questioned. A role their Father hoped would shackle his eldest daughter in order to steer the other three along the right path. But 'leader' was not a title Freya had attached to herself, and for that, Ellette was most grateful.

"You know they will not stop until you do," Freya continued. "Will you not spare both of us the torture, sister?"

In response, Ellette only threw the hood of her red cloak over her head as the winter night grew colder. She did not need to look up to know the clouds were racing to cover the full moon; the fact that the slight whisper of the wind—dancing around the trees of the surrounding forest—was beginning to penetrate the barrier of warmth that had engulfed her entire being hours before was confirmation enough that the night of all nights was beginning to come to an end.

Just as she was about to shift her wooden staff from one hand to the other, Ellette felt something soft yet firm hit her in the center of her back. She stopped immediately, but did not turn around. At least not right away.

If she had been paying a bit more attention seconds prior, perhaps she would have noticed that her sisters' footsteps had stopped. If she had not been so consumed by her thoughts, she probably would have heard the shushing and mischievous fit of giggles from the twins. She may have even heard the object soaring through the air, slicing through the silence and making its way towards her. Maybe she could have even stopped it before it made contact. But she had not been paying attention, and, as a result, war had just been declared on the youngest sister.

With a strong thrust, Ellette dug her staff into the snowy ground. Slowly, she turned around, hardly surprised at the absence of her sisters. But her eyes did not need to dart in every direction in attempt to locate them; she only needed to listen. She only needed to feel. She would let them expose themselves because once they did, they would soon regret it.

With a smile on her face, she lowered herself to her knees and began gathering a pile of snow. Quietly and to herself, Ellette closed her eyes and began to hum the melody of her favourite song. She opened her eyes at the exact moment her three sisters jumped from the trees they hid behind. Their battle cries echoed throughout the silent forest as they ran towards her, armed with snowballs and the fiercest facial expressions they could display upon their soft, delicate faces.

Gathering her own snowballs in her arms, Ellette rose to her feet and, without a care nor battle plan, charged towards them.

For over a quarter of an hour, snowball after snowball had been thrown. It was a mystery as to how any snow remained on the makeshift battlefield, for all four sisters had been completely covered from head to toe.

Freya had been the first to yield, not because she had been out-snowed, nor because, as the eldest, she no longer had the energy to keep up with her younger sisters. Ellette knew it was because, as the eldest sister, Freya had learned a long time ago that if she did not take on the role as mediator, even in something as harmless as a snowball fight, it would not be long before tears were spilled or bones were broken. So, as expected, she had bowed out of the battle but kept a watchful eye on the twins and Ellette.

From behind the tree she was using as a shield, Ellette looked at Freya, who was off to the side taking coverage behind a tree of her own and shaking the snow from her hair and cloak. Despite the smile her sister wore, Ellette knew it would not be much longer before Freya called off the fun.

Normally, she would have been content with her sister's interference, but the distraction the snowball fight provided for Ellette was far to enticing to give up so soon. She was not ready to return to the thoughts that had been plaguing her mind, nor was she quite ready to return home, where she would undoubtedly be met by the suspicious glare her Father seemed to only reserve for her. So, with a firm hold on her staff with one hand, she dropped the remaining snowballs in the other and took off running deep into the forest.

"Come on, Raisie, she is getting away!" Nissa yelled to her twin.

"Do not go too far, sisters! We must be returning home soon!" Freya called out.

Though she had no clear destination in sight, Ellette continued to run. It did help that she knew the forest like the back of her hand. She and her sisters had grown up inside of its protective embrace, and it served as the playground for most of her kind. She ran past trees she had passed hundreds of times before, jumped over their fallen kin and delighted in the knowledge of being the first to grace the freshly fallen snow with her footprints. In the back of her mind, she knew she had probably gone too far and that she probably should have stopped and turned back. But her determination to keep going only seemed to make Ellette run faster.

What she wanted was only a couple of minutes to herself.

She did not wish to hear the footsteps of approaching sisters, a sound that followed her day in and day out. She did not wish to hear laughing and giggling, nor the tiresome speeches older siblings forced onto younger siblings. In that particular moment, she did not wish to feel the familiar sensation of dread that always seemed to ignite within her whenever Freya insisted it was time to return home.

For only a couple of minutes, Ellette longed for silence. For peace. For solitude. She longed only for the companionship of the moonlight, for it was the only friend she knew would not lead her astray but aid her along any path she chose.

Ellette did, however, stop running. Clenching her hand tightly around her staff, she propped herself up against a tree and tried to catch her breath. She did not realize she was crying until the tears paved a warm path down her cold cheeks.

"Stupid," she whispered to herself as she wiped the tears away. "Do not be stupid, Ellette. Do not waste your tears on yourself."

Despite her will to stop crying, her tears only continued to fall, more so when she heard the call of her name by her sisters off in the distance. Freya was the only sister she would ever dare cry in front of. If she presented herself in front of the twins in such a saddened state, they would only start crying themselves. And although that was not an entirely negative fault Ellette found within the emotional pair, it certainly would not make the situation any better for her.

Glancing up, she quickly located the moon through the barrier of trees. The night of all nights was a time for her people to send off their prayers and offer their personal wishes—bundled in whispers and sealed with light—up to the moon. Every month for the past three months, Ellette had mingled her prayers in with those of her kind, as that was their way. But when it came to the custom of picking out a star to wish upon, she always found herself unable to follow through.

For a girl at sixteen, she, of course, had many wishes. Wishes for love and happiness. Wishes for the succession of her people, and for health and prosperity for her family. She used to wish to hear the secrets the wind carried when it blew in from the south. She used to wish for the type of first kiss that sent sparks soaring across the sky in streams of all sorts of different colours that even her eyes had never seen before.

Every month for sixteen years, Ellette had wished for many things. However, on that particular night—on that particular Moonrise—she had not wished for anything. But looking up at the moon right then, while she hoped her sisters walked a little slower and that her tears dried a little faster, a wish rose out of a place deep within her for the first time in three months. Clutching her staff in both hands and holding it tightly to her chest, Ellette picked out a star and made her wish, hoping it made its way to the heavens safely.

With a final glance at the full moon and a softly whispered goodbye—for she knew she would not see it for another month—Ellette righted herself with a few brushes of her cloak, a swipe of any remaining tears off of her face, and prepared herself to head back to her sisters. But just as she was about to turn around, a sound stilled her from doing so.

Her hands tightened around her staff, a natural instinct to cling to the only object she knew with absolute certainty had the power to protect her. But when the sound was heard again, she allowed her curiosity to get the better of her.

Her eyes darted in all different directions, hoping to locate the source of the sound. But when her eyes failed to find it, she saw no other choice but to search for it herself. Glancing behind her, she saw her three sisters heading in her direction, though if they had spotted her, she was not certain.

Again, she heard the sound, pulling her attention away from Freya and the twins and towards the dark forest ahead of her. The first step Ellette took was made of her own free will, but for the rest that followed, her feet seemed to move by their own accord. She was not choosing the path but, rather, the path was been choosing her.

Her feet dug through the thick snow, searching to find the source of the sound, but she did not hear it a fourth time. As her curiosity began to turn into despair, Ellette moved faster. She did not know why it was vital to do so, only a feeling that it had to be done.

"Ellette! Ellette, please come back!"

Freya's distinct voice echoed through the forest, but it was not enough to stop Ellette. She only continued to venture deeper into the forest, trekking through areas full of even more fallen trees, and parts where the moonlight barely reached. Soon, she found herself facing a tunnel of darkness in the form of taller trees huddled together, seemingly waiting for her arrival.

She did not think twice about allowing it to engulf her.

With no way of being able to see what was no more than five feet in front of her, her pace slowed down quite a bit. Although she chose to venture into the darker parts of the forest, even she knew it best to be guarded in any place where light held little to no power.

It was not until she had been so deep into the darkness that a realization washed over Ellette—from where she had been when she first heard the sound to where she currently found herself was far too great of a distance to have heard the sound in the first place.

Had her ears simply been playing tricks on her? Had she imagined the sound in her desperate attempt to find a reason to prolong the inevitable trek back home?

Turning around, Ellette hoped to see her rapidly approaching sisters, but was only met with darkness. Panic struck her hard as she searched for any sign of light. She started to head back in the direction she was certain she had come from, but she could not be sure that she was going the right way as it was far too dark for her to make out the trail of footsteps she would have undoubtedly left in the snow.

"Freya!" Ellette called out, hoping to hear her sister call out her name in response, but she was only answered by silence.

She continued to search for any sign of light, for any hint out of the surrounding darkness, but it seemed the harder she looked, the more darkness she found. Knowing it would be useless, she looked up at the sky anyway in hopes of locating the moon. But the trees were far too tall and much too crowded together that not even a star in the heavens could be seen.

Before she could berate herself for being so stupid as to get herself lost in the very forest she prided herself in knowing so well, the sanity she was beginning to question was confirmed as present and accounted for when she heard the earlier sound for a fourth time. Almost as if her earlier fear and panic had been non-existent, Ellette took a deep breath and moved in the direction she was absolutely certain the sound had emerged from. A minute or two later, she came to a complete stop when a small sliver of moonlight blessed her eyes and called her forth.