Ellie Boyce was always the first leaf to color

The corn silk haired girl’s voice would richochet off walls

She would lead her friends fiercely into battles of tag 

She looked like a fawn in an open field, but radiated the prescence of the dead eye stare of a lion

And if she was that lion, then her goals were her prey

She locked on, bolting after them, 

The hunger driving her bounding and reaching for her victim

But she tripped over her legs

Still she pushed relentlessly forwards, not moving her focus once

But despite her efforts the prey would go out of sight

And her stumbles prevented her from reaching her prey

Although as time passed 

That hunger never faded

Her stumbles happened less, each movement became more precise

After practice and practice

Precision became more consistent

Not perfect, but more often than not

 The battles, and the hunts, were successful

So even after time and practice, there still is entire lost wars or even small prey that can’t be reached

And the relentless drive can sometimes be exhausting

Yet putting in the effort proves that it’s worth it 

Ellie Boyce was always the first leaf to color

But that doesn’t mean she will be the first to fall