She had wandered into their midst with bubbling hope of exploration. She had glowed with thoughts of something new.

They laughed at her, the strangers with new fascinating ways. She was odd, uncultured and unwise in ways of civilisation.

So the wanderer learnt painstakingly. Assimilated and conformed to civilisation as presented.

But a wanderer forever wanders. And to her roots, she did wander again. Where her blood had been bred by the waters of her land. But the rock boundaries of civilisation had created a barrier. Her blood no longer flowed in sync with this land.

She was a stranger who spoke unheard words. Who walked uncut steps and who was to be avoided.

And so she drifted from here to there. A wanderer now in legs and in spirit. Not here and not there.

The waters of her land had rejected her. And the eyes of her assimilated culture mocked her. Yes, she was now a wanderer in all terms of the word.

©silver_flakes