What were the chances that John Smith could be standing right in front of her?
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Pocahontas took a deep breath trying to get her head around who she was looking at. What were the chances that John Smith could be standing right in front of her?
“This can’t be real,” She thought. “This has to be a dream. Could it really be him?”
John Smith stood on the edge of the small cliff and stared down. The small town that has come to be built on the Native American land was getting bigger. John Smith had come back to make a life in that small town, but everywhere he looked he got constant reminders of his Mất tích love.
“At least she’s happy,” he thought.
He hoped to never see them again. It would be far too painful to see her in the arms of another man. Still, for as long as he had been there, he had secretly searched for her. He went to the waterfall where they had met. He went to the giant cây where they had spoken their first words to each other. He even went to Grandmother Willow, but she had remained as still as a cây should.
He felt stupid still looking for her, when he knew finding her would do him no good and only bring him thêm pain, but something in him felt like he could still paint with all the màu sắc of the wind and sing with all the voices of the mountain.
“What am I thinking,” He thought. “I have to get back down to town.”
He left the cliff and went back to the town. After he left, Pocahontas felt an toàn, két an toàn to come out. She watched as he climbed down the small cliff. She made sure to stay out of his sight, but for some reason, she couldn’t explain why she wanted for him to see her.
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She made sure to stay out of his sight, but for some reason, she couldn’t explain why she wanted for him to see her.