No one truly just appears in any area no matter how much they would prefer the contrary. And jenika was no exception to that rule of fate. A lonely only with elder parents that passed within months of each other, there was nothing to tie her to the day to day monotony. Time would heal all wounds and aches she knew, even loneliness. However, she had reached her limit with the everyday minutia and moved away, one day just parking her car at a truck stop, leaving the keys inside with the title. Hitching a ride away from the city, listening to the tires whirl along the road. Moving from the city to the plains and then the hills, she kept the pack at her feet and finally just walked away after a nice stop for gas.

Walking into the trees, the pack over her shoulder containing simple clothing, no zips or snaps. It had a few miscellaneous items and her mood was so much whimsy, she simply continued. One day, stopping to scavenge for some berries, wondering if perhaps this was a really bad idea, she observed a naked woman running and pursued by a man. Watching and thinking perhaps to render aid, until the capture and sweet surrender. It stirred something within her, heat flowed from head to toes and she waited, watching as much as she could.

Leaving the long chestnut strands in a braid most days, finally finding the wagon and watching more, she finally approached, listening and learning more. A bambi. A bambi, that is what she would be. Preferring mischief and simple things, always wishing a laugh and the simple joys it brought, she did not let the mundane startle her. Flowers and mud and tricks were her traits and that was as it should be to her. Having found a niche, she hoped, she kept to the outskirts, not wanting the cages, but learning how to pick the locks if she so chose.

There were days she missed the more exotic things of the city, a hazelnut latte with whip cream and cinnamon. Or perhaps chocolate covered almonds and a new novel to read. But rarely was the longing lasting or intense. And when the maudlin over took her, she simply redecorated an unattended cabin or sleeping hunter. Having found a place she felt truly alive the petite female with the lush curves made herself at home. The sun streaked her chestnut strands with highlights of blonde and red and the flowers provided many scents for her to enjoy.

There were things that she drew the line at: blood, scat, waterworks, children and animals. Nor was she a fan of intense pain, though an occasional swat or the like was not amiss in her humble opinion. After all, she was mischief personified. Even as a child she had strayed into mischief more often then not. Why should she veer from that passtime was her thought.