The forest was silent. The entirety of the realm seemed to hold its' breath as even the air was stagnant. Days like this were always bothersome. A small figure had her hands clenched around a thin, nearly invisible string--expertly climbing it to hoist herself into the nook of a tree. Breathing out, she shifted her weight, nuzzling into the comfort of the flora. It was the best she could do, for now--best to stay off of the forest floor today. On days such as this when the forest felt lifeless was when it was probably at its' most hostile, and she had no desire to get involved with that little game of survival today. She'd let those beasts down below roam about and when they grew tired, she would be able to come down and play.
A frown touched her lips. It was at moments like this, when she was not busying her mind, that she remembered what her realm used to be. Before her mistress disappeared. Before all of them disappeared. She still remembered each dreamer, but the most special one of all had taken some of the life energy that used to be given to this place. And now, well, The Doll wouldn't be surprised if a few areas of her forest had succumbed to a bit of haunting. The fact that she had been using spots also as digging sites for useless corpses probably wasn't helping much either. Which reminded her. She was due for a new pair of eyes.
She stood gracefully, grasping the string to support her weight as she scanned the forest over briefly. Hm. Maybe there would be new playthings in a new area. Her children were starving back at her home, starving for attention and sight. Yes, her peculiar hobby was probably frightening to others. Her home was one of discarded limbs and joints of dolls that had never been finished. But it was also warm and one of the only places she could find company. When the dreamers stopped coming, she also had stopped seeing her fellow imaginaries. And that had stopped the games all together.
Not that she hadn't... tried. In the very beginning after the disappearance, she had been confused (she still was, sadly). Not all the dreamers had gone away at the same time, she had asked after the other imaginaries, the other dreamers, to tell her where her beloved mistress had gone. But none of them had answers for her and in due time, all of her friendships had fallen apart. Why did she still hope, then? She still had that flame inside of her, buried in the smallest corner of her heart. A belief that one day, Wilow would come back for her and things would return to normal.
She bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from thinking such ridiculous thoughts. No, stop thinking like that--it wasn't worth it. She had hunting to do anyway. With a deep breath, she bent her knees and then pushed her weight off of the tree, gliding to the next branch in search of her next target.