Light was beginning to tinkle over the distant horizon. When I could make out the beginnings of shapes, I attempted to distinguish familiar objects. Unremarkable trees and rocks began to emerge in the penumbra. I turned my body towards the source of the light and carefully walked forwards. The landscape grew clearer and clearer as I stepped from smooth stone to velvety grass. I began to see colors, vivid colors. The greens which clothed the trees brightened from noir to murk to emerald. A kingly presentation of purple dawned on each morning glory bloom’s face, and the world came to life. It was not an exuberance that roused over the world, however. It was a darker and more solemn fatality. 
“Today has come. Tomorrow, these days will end,” the whisper came from the trees. “The past is gone and needs not be the concern of today or tomorrow.” The contented quietness of the trees agreed.
I stopped when dawn’s light filled the sky with grays and purples. A breeze blew, and I shivered. Looking down, a shock of white skin startled me. I realized for the first time that I was completely without clothes. I never particularly cared for clothes. Sure, there were lovely clothes and they kept me warm during the cold season, but they were usually unneeded and restricting from my perspective. I never undress myself, however, so I do not offend others. People always feel the obligation to selectively cover some body parts but not others. If a breast, why not a shoulder? The reason seemed intuitive to others, so I conformed to the universal standard and inability as to why I needed to do so. 
This nakedness was different, however. I searched for faces in the forest scene. No one was insight or likely in the entire forest. There were no obligations or standards set by some society here. Here, I did not feel awkward, insecure, indecent, or shameful. There was no one to offend, no one to misinterpret my actions. I felt more so a part of nature: a mammal, erect and powerful on my hind legs, untouched by the human race. I was merely another creature on this earth, superior but weak. 
I continued onward, fearful of what else might take advantage of my weakness. My pace quickened involuntarily. There was no evidence of mankind left behind in footprints or out-of-place objects. No sounds from nearby settlements intruded upon the forest silence. As the light level increased, there were no clear landmarks to guide myself towards, either. My feet led me, and nothing more. 
After moving in what seemed to be a straight line towards the spot I assumed the sun had risen for what seemed to be hours. The sun had ceased to rise just short of breaking this gloom. I hoped to view the persistent penumbra in mystique, but the landscape did not offer the energy for wonder. It was a greater struggle to just keep moving in the lazy mist.
I feared I was moving deeper into the forest instead of out. The sun never came up. It was though I was moving in a dream, with no concept of how I got here in the first place. I was thrust into a strange environment with an uncertain task. Perhaps I really was in a dream. Nevertheless, I kept going.
For all this time traveling through the lingering twilight, I never encountered another being. No bug, no skittish animal, and no person crossed my way. Flora was my only company. I began to suspect that I was truly alone in this world. I did not fear, but I longed for company in the dim forest setting, even a simple creature to assure me that I was not alone. To be honest, I had no recollection of ever meeting another creature. 
When I got tired, I curled into a ball beside the exposed root of a tree. Strange dreams flitted through my head before my eyes opened again. No sounds betrayed a hidden critter’s activities. The forest was completely dark. I returned to sleep hastily. 
When I woke up again, the world was again caught in this half-awake gray. What could this miserable purgatory be? I wondered dreamily. I got back up on my feet and followed the brightest part of the sky. 
For the first time in all my wanderings across this strange, muted world, I encountered an erect creature. It stood on two legs like a man, had two arms like a man, and was of comparable height. I hung back at first, watching its movements. It was ghastly pale, glowing like a moon. It reared its head and stayed still. It must have detected my presence. I noticed its cloven hind legs and realized it was a centaur. I had encountered a centaur. 
“Hello,” I tried, weakly. “I mean no harm. I am a bit lost. I’m not quite sure where I am.”
I took a gentle step into the clearing. 
The centaur stared at me uneasily. She had wild hair tangled in dreadlocks, braids, and beads. She wore several beaded headdresses and golden bands covered her neck, breasts, and arms. She took my breath away. Her eyes were sharply intelligent and sardonic.
“Do you speak English?” I asked.
“English?” it spoke whimsically and freely. “What is English?”
“English is what we speak.”
“All speak English, then, if they do speak,” the female lowered her head challengingly. “I do speak.”
She vanished into the forest instantly. I was uncertain what to make of the encounter. I hardly even believed it happened. 
After that, more encounters followed. When the night blanketed me once again, little sparks of light fell upon me. I found them to be living creatures, like fireflies but formless. They fell from the Moon, they told me.
“We are only seedlings of the Moon,” they hummed soothingly. “We fell from her head like dandruff and came to Earth this way. We are only a small portion of the Moon.”
“What is the Moon like, then?”
“She is beautiful, cold, and chaste. She does not speak her secrets, but she knows all that transpires beneath her icy trail across the canopy.”
“Do you speak her secrets, then?”
“We are only the little bits of moondust left behind. We are nothing more than tears. How can we tell her secrets?”
“You carry a bit of her with you, though. Surely you know something.”
The lights glittered mischievously. 
I asked a question, “Where does she go when she dips ‘neath the horizon?” 
“We cannot know. We were left behind.”
It was obvious they were being difficult, but their game entertained me. That answer did not make sense, though. “Then is she not up now?”
“No! There is no light but us, you see?”
I swore there was some greater light that replaced the moon during the day. 
“Then is it only she in the sky?” I asked.
“Nothing is in the sky, child. But the Moon claims the highest part of the canopy for Herself. And us, of course! We spread across the loftiest branches once leaving her and sometimes loose our footing and fall.”
“Then you’re just up there, then? Can I meet the Moon if I climb high enough?”
“Everyone wishes to meet the goddess but no one can reach her. She climbs highest of all. If she did not, she would not be the Moon Queen.
“What is the Moon? How old is she?”
“She is the brightest being in the land. She illuminates all beneath her. She is goddess and queen and as old as the kingdom.”
“The kingdom? Am I her subject, then? What is the name of this place?”
“We are all Moon’s subjects in Silverhome.”
“I think I shall meet her,” I told them. “Do I travel upwards, then?”
“The Moon honors boldness. You have heard of her power let must come to behold it for yourself. You understand what beauty is to gaze upon and shall have a glimpse. We will light the way. Move upwards, ever higher. Excelsior!”
At that moment, the little lights I had grown accustomed to vanished, leaving me alone, blinking in the dark. Then the little lights flickered again, forming a sort of trail to the easiest way into the lowest tree. I obeyed and hoisted myself into the tree. Limb after limb, I worked myself upwards, following the dim outlines of trees. My own limbs began to ache after following the lights for an hour. I was amazed at the height of the trees and began to fear how I would rest or come down. The lights said nothing more, though, so I didn’t bother asking. I feared losing their assistance and the chance to meet the Moon more than anything at the moment. Thankfully, they grew concerned for me and all gathered at a ledge in the nearest trunk. It had a carved interior just wide enough for me to curl up into and rest. 
“Please, come and rest,” they said. “We cannot last much longer. We are fading.”
I crawled into the trunk, and the three little lights flitted upon my shoulders and tickled my face. When I awoke, they were reduced to little piles of dust on my bare skin. I felt somber. My second acquaintances were lifeless against my breast. 
Brushing them off, I proceeded a bit further.
Upon hearing of me from the Silver mites who cling to my Silverface and farce they are even a part of me, you have traveled 25297 Silverdies, 133.57 feet or around thirteen stories in units with which you are familiar.