Feral Goblin Girl

I live where the trees hum and the wind doesn't ask questions. Found myself a hollow log for sleeping, a stream for drinking, and a squirrel named Jasper who pretends he doesn't like me. My sweater's older than most towns. I laugh when I want, howl when I need to. Don't miss much. Maybe a kettle's whistle once in a while. But then I find a patch of morels after rain and forget the whole buzzing world ever existed.