Post by Yoshifrog on Jan 14, 2007 14:51:12 GMT -5
The beginning is a bit dry, but please take the time to read this, as it continues it's going to become quite interesting ^^ The ending gives you a little cliffhanger, anywho.
Chapter 2 comming soon.
UNDER CUNSTRUCTION
The fox lie there at the edge of the ravine in pure amazement, his forearms crossed and his heavy black paws dangling over the edge. This was his first time venturing out of his homeland woods, and he found that the world he’d always imagined lie within the distance wasn’t near as beautiful as the one that lie before his eyes now. He felt engulfed in a certain and most pleasurable happiness that helped him to set aside his weariness from his long trip, and help block out the shoots of pain electrocuting from his stinging pawpads, torn a bit from his dash through the thorn patch on his way over. He watched the crystal water of the ravine delicately swim over the pebbles, graceful yet brisk in it’s journey to rivers and oceans beyond. The young canine smiled a bit, watching the branches of the pines sway letting lose armies of red needles, and the helicopters tumbling down from the tall leaved trees on the opposite banks of the ravine. He watched them fall down into the water, and had a sudden fascination of what lie below. A mere 20-foot distance separated the fox from the shore of the brook- but the cliff was steep and too jagged to climb down, and a jump might break his legs. The fox decided to walk along the edge of the cliff a ways to see if it dropped at a point, or if it and the one thither to it might get close enough so he could make a leap to it and try the other side for passages down. He walked along the edge of the ravine, breathing in the soothing scent of pine he had grown to love so dearly. After walking for ten minutes or so, he was disappointed to find that the two sides of the ravine joined at the end, steep as ever. But despite it he kept going, in search of something new and exciting- and soon he noticed the pine needles below his feet were getting scarcer, and that leaves took their place- and further on he realized grass had made it’s way out from under the leaves, and a new sunlight was feeding them through holes in the trees. In fact, he realized, there weren’t many trees to block the sunlight at all. Had he ventured too far? He stopped dead in his tracks. Just ahead, an open meadow lay. His curiosity was bringing him closer, but instinct pulling him back. He’d been a wood-dweller his entire life. Never before had he left the safety of the trees. And now, here was his chance. He stepped forward, but again, instinct stopped him. He had been told by his mother so long ago that meadows were bad news. He swiveled his ears all around. If there was any danger here, it must be silent as death itself, he thought. So despite the forces pulling him away, he trotted silently up to the opening in the trees.
2
This chapter could have been written better, but it's short, sweet, and leaves you satisfyingly wondering. Pashow.
He stepped out cautiously onto the grass. One things for certain- he had a newfound love for grass. The soft feeling of it on his sore paws made him sigh with enjoyment. Looking from side to side, and up and down (just to be certain no one was watching) he rolled in the grass like a dog would after a bath. As he lay on the soft grass, in the warm sun, he had completely disregarded the beauty of his grassy meadow. Equipped with many small, white flowers and a pond lined with cattails it was quite the sight. And when he finally did look, he said aloud, “why wouldn’t mother like this?” He got up and trotted over to the pond for a drink to quench his thirst and restore his mouth’s moisture, which had been sucked away by the sun many hours ago. While he sucked up big gulps of the scrumptious, clean water, unknown to him, a slender young visitor was watching from within the trees.
“Maybe your mother was a little brighter than you!” A soft, gentle voice laughed from behind him. He jumped, unaware that anyone else was with him. He collected his senses and asked, “But why? How can a place like this be so awful?” He turned to the young fox sitting behind him. White as snow she was, with silver paws and icy blue eyes, and in her presence he felt small, his red-brown flank and brown eyes solid as bark did not seem even near so wise and beautiful.
“Look around you my friend. What do you see?”
“Beauty.” He said.
“Yes, but do you see any trees, any growing within this grass?”
“No.”
“It’s open. Unsafe. But that’s only half the danger. Why might you think the trees do not grow here? They surround it, yes, but what, do you think, makes this one area so special?”
He just looked as his feet and nodded. Then asked, “What?”
“That is not for you to know. But will say one thing- leave. This is no place for a young, inexperienced fox to be wandering.”
She left him there with a name, and he sent her with his. She was Natalie, and he was Rusty. And now Rusty walked, his shoulders slumped and his tail dragging. This morning he felt brave and fierce, conquering the beauty and mysteries of nature. Now he felt timid and small, a young girl treating him as if he were still a pup~
The story starts elevating here~
3
Rusty had nearly reached the opening into the forest when again, a wave of curiosity hit him. What could she mean by, “It’s not for you to know”? What is this strange clearing in miles of forest doing here in the first place? Who is Natalie anyway? Rusty just didn’t understand- and he, dying for answers to his questions turned around, and instead of heading back to the ravine, he went off to follow Natalie.
As Rusty walked on, tracing her path with his sharp canine nose, the soreness embedded deep within his legs had returned. He remembered his journey- running through ages of forest and searching for a new home. He remembered the fear pulsing in his heart… just nearly escaping death. Running… from them.
^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>
Natalie sat and stared at the great oak standing before her, skinned of it’s bark and burned by warriors so passionate that their marks have remained. Laced with pawprints, it stood noble above all the rest. This tree carried the signature marks of great warriors and heaven speakers, saints and fighters, the bravest and the purest ever known to the woods. She hummed a soft song and thought of past times, back in her pup days- memories of her abandonment. She then spoke in soft whispers to the tree, reciting the poems she had been taught by the forest alone, with no elders there to teach her. She sang softly to it’s scarred oaken trunk, “No one knows no one knows, the forest hath spared me, it’s nursed me and fed me to do what is right, no one knows how much I had to fight, but oh, how much you have taught me my mother, oh, how much I know. You have brought me all I’ve ever learned, and that is how I have…”
“NATALIE!” Rusty shouted, dashing through the trees, “I need to know something!”
“If it’s about the meadow” she said firmly “then you know all need be known.”
Rusty groaned, “I don’t like these games Natalie. Please, I really need to know.”
“Why?” she said amusingly, raising her eyebrows.
“Because… well…” Rusty stuttered. “Fine. At least tell me who you are.”
“I’m Natalie”
“Why do you know so much? Oh, and why have I traveled over the whole forest, and you’re the only one I’ve found?”
Natalie paused. She looked a bit sad, like she was remembering things she didn’t want to. “I have lived here -alone- since I was a pup. When I saw you I was shocked.”
“Why? Anyone could have come here!” Rusty said, looking quite confused.
“Rusty. There is an 80 foot trench around these entire woods, it’s 30 ft wide and buried in thorns. there is absolutely no way you could have come here. You scare me, Rusty.”
Rusty looked down at his torn pawpads.
“Thorns!” He gasped. “I walked through thorns to get here!”
MORE 3
Natalie looked at him disbelievingly. “It can’t be”, she gasped, trying to stay steady, “Or can it? Can it really be you?”
Rusty looked at her like she was crazy.
“What?” He said, an eyebrow bent down in suspicion.
She whispered, “Speak softly and kindly my friend, for the forest praises you. Look at this tree. These are the pawprints of many warriors. They cease to exist, but their signature remains. I was raised by the forest. I was the survivor. And when the moment came where my paws became fire I burnt my mark on this ancient wood. But there is a prophecy. One pawspot is empty. The meadow needs you Rusty- and as much as I’d like to say more, I cannot, for the forest forbids me. Read the tree, Rusty… read it!”
Natalie vanished into the woods, and Rusty stood alone, the night fading to dark. What could this all mean?
4
Rusty examined the tree closely. It filled him with an awareness that he had seen this tree before. How could it be? Maybe in a dream, he thought. But each print had lingered in his head his whole life, the massive width of the thing, the bareness to its base- everything. He ran his paws across the naked trunk, feeling the marks and indentations. Burn marks. Paws had burned through the wood. But how? There was no way that any living fox could set his delicate paws to flame, burn through the wood, and stop the burning without causing a lasting and life threatening injury. Rusty shivered. He looked down at his paws. Was this his fate? Was he to set his paws afire, and never walk again? He decided to wait a bit before burning his paws off; get some answers. He then recalled Natalie’s words.
“Read the tree” He whispered. All he saw was paws. What could he read? He looked closer, and stood then, astonished. Each paw had burnt in their pawpads, and pawPRINTS. Even the slightest detail, a swirl, a scar, within the pads was visible. He didn’t understand. You can’t burn that type of thing into wood. He looked closer at the pawpads. He examined each swirl. But there was something he noticed beyond all things, something that stood true on every pawprint. A moon. There was a strange formation within the pads that took on the shape of a moon. Recognizing Natalie’s delicate, soft, feminine paws on the wood, he saw that she carried the same mark. Then, it hit Rusty. He looked at his paws, examining closely the rough black pawpads within them. There was a moon. Now Rusty’s paws began to take on a warm sensation, and when he placed them on the ground, he realized his forearms no longer ached, and he felt stronger than ever. He dowsed his paws in a puddle, attempting to cool them down, but his attempts meant nothing, and as he strained to fight the heat, he soon found all he had done was warm the water to a point where it and his paws were equal in temperature. So Rusty walked, the night fading into a solemn black. He had no trouble seeing, though. His paws were sending off a strange glow that illuminated his path, and though this baffled him, he decided he should take advantage of it.
You don't get much from this chapter quite yet. It's not complete. I think the whole thing is a cliffhanger~
5 THIS ISN'T THE WHOLE THING (of course :9)
Rusty walked along, forever in search of somewhere to rest. He found a small patch of leaves, and was about to settle down when he suddenly remembered the trench Natalie spoke of. It was that in which disabled life to cross over and mingle within the pines of this forest. But how had he gotten over it? There was no way. So despite his fatigue he rose again to his paws, and decided to return to the cliffs follow the ravine back to the thorn patch in which he had passed through to reach this strange and unusual wood. Rusty continued on a ways. He walked past oaks, pines, caves and ridges. He walked until even his newfound strength from his moonlit scar had faded, and his arms were feeling sore. Rusty had never lost is way. Why did he now? Yet with a few last steps of effort, Rusty began to feel a warmth blowing from trees up ahead. He smelled water, and as he drew nearer heard the pop of bubbles, the sound gentle waves. Soon he came across a bubbling spring. The water was an odd color- a strange grey-brown, and it wasn’t muddy, either. It was clear. He could even see the bottom. Within the water he saw some various fish. But one thing caught Rusty’s gaze more than anything- many pebbles were charred.The trees nearest the water were blackened with the scars of many flames. Had there been I fire here? He thought. Shortly after this question struck him, he was feeling dizzy. The world around him began to spin, and his paws began to throb as if they had been buried in red hot charcoals. Half from exhaustion and half from plain sickness to his stomach, his brown-as-bark eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell with a thud onto the gravel.
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2
Natalie breathed in sharply. She sniffed the puddle in which she had just stepped. It was boiling hot. She stared for a moment at it, not certain what it could mean. Then it struck her.
“Oh no” she sighed. “I hope I’m not too late”
Natalie seemed to know exactly where she was going, and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her through tangle of the forest. She darted quickly back and forth, under logs and over rocks, graceful as a cheetah. The smell of smoke was in the air, and as she ran on, it became fiercer. With every step she seemed to become more determined, breathing steadily. The trip she was taking was much longer for her than it had been for Rusty- while he made it in a matter of minutes, Natalie ran along through the pines for nearly forty-five minutes just to come even close to the crystal spring. The pines glistened in the dim moonlight, and Natalie, straining to breathe against the smoke, was exhausted. She had run for miles along the forest’s edge in search of the Spring- and now as the forest thinned, she could see the faint glow of firelight through the scattered trunks of the oaks and pines.
Coughing, and shielding her eyes from the heat that was radiating from fierce flames, she managed to take in her surroundings. The gravel was on fire, despite its resistance to heat. The small spring, edged by trees reflected the firelight- and the pines were ablaze and sending off clouds of smoke into the night sky. Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie spotted some orange-brown fur. She swung her head around and ran quickly across the gravel to the limp body that was Rusty. His eyes were open wide, despite the heat, and his unconsciousness. They shimmered in the light of the fire- and Natalie could see that they had turned a fierce blue.
She closed her eyes tight, and her mouth slightly ajar she faced the moon and began to sing. As she did this, she closed Rusty’s eyelids and pressed her paws on his flank. She sang the words clear into the night-
Do not take him, do not take him
His spirit’s brave, his heart is true
His paws have set the night ablaze
His eyes have turned a radiant blue…
He is…. The prophecy.
At these final words the fire suddenly began to wave through the air, like wind, off the branches, off the gravel, and into a golden, glowing ball, thrashing fierce above the spring. It slowly sunk into the water’s depths, and for a moment, while it sat, submerged, the spring glowed a bright golden-yellow. With one final hiss, the ball died and became ashes which slowly sunk to the bottom of the spring.
<^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><
Right on his tail they were, those big grey wolves. Panting, panting, their breath hot on his feet. Brambles lay ahead, and Rusty dived in, knowing that a little pain was worth his life. Looking back, he saw the wolves stop dead in their tracks, mouths gaping, with the look of confusion painted on their faces. They looked at each other, as if testing their sanity. Rusty looked ahead, finally free. But ahead was nothing. Below his feet was nothing. He was floating, nowhere, for only a moment- and suddenly, he was lying next to the ravine, watching the water swirl past . He stood up, confused. The trees were waving, as if the wind was blowing, but the air was as calm as ever. He ran along the side of the ravine. Its water was now red like the red of blood. He soon reached the meadow. His eyes were burning, just burning, as if they were on fire. The blood red ravine hadn’t stopped where it should have, instead it was pouring out into the meadow, staining the ground red, and filling Rusty’s nose with the stench of blood. The sky was black, but through the darkness he saw a big, huge, star. It writhed and quivered as if it was about to explode. Then it turned black as the sky, and slowly fell onto the blood soaken grass of the meadow. This all was happening so fast, and Rusty couldn’t understand the meaning of it all. He heard faint voices, coming from the trees. They were singing to him from the depths of the forest, a sweet melody he had heard in his dreams, time and time again.
Then, all was silent.
Chapter 2 comming soon.
UNDER CUNSTRUCTION
2
This chapter could have been written better, but it's short, sweet, and leaves you satisfyingly wondering. Pashow.
He stepped out cautiously onto the grass. One things for certain- he had a newfound love for grass. The soft feeling of it on his sore paws made him sigh with enjoyment. Looking from side to side, and up and down (just to be certain no one was watching) he rolled in the grass like a dog would after a bath. As he lay on the soft grass, in the warm sun, he had completely disregarded the beauty of his grassy meadow. Equipped with many small, white flowers and a pond lined with cattails it was quite the sight. And when he finally did look, he said aloud, “why wouldn’t mother like this?” He got up and trotted over to the pond for a drink to quench his thirst and restore his mouth’s moisture, which had been sucked away by the sun many hours ago. While he sucked up big gulps of the scrumptious, clean water, unknown to him, a slender young visitor was watching from within the trees.
“Maybe your mother was a little brighter than you!” A soft, gentle voice laughed from behind him. He jumped, unaware that anyone else was with him. He collected his senses and asked, “But why? How can a place like this be so awful?” He turned to the young fox sitting behind him. White as snow she was, with silver paws and icy blue eyes, and in her presence he felt small, his red-brown flank and brown eyes solid as bark did not seem even near so wise and beautiful.
“Look around you my friend. What do you see?”
“Beauty.” He said.
“Yes, but do you see any trees, any growing within this grass?”
“No.”
“It’s open. Unsafe. But that’s only half the danger. Why might you think the trees do not grow here? They surround it, yes, but what, do you think, makes this one area so special?”
He just looked as his feet and nodded. Then asked, “What?”
“That is not for you to know. But will say one thing- leave. This is no place for a young, inexperienced fox to be wandering.”
She left him there with a name, and he sent her with his. She was Natalie, and he was Rusty. And now Rusty walked, his shoulders slumped and his tail dragging. This morning he felt brave and fierce, conquering the beauty and mysteries of nature. Now he felt timid and small, a young girl treating him as if he were still a pup~
The story starts elevating here~
3
Rusty had nearly reached the opening into the forest when again, a wave of curiosity hit him. What could she mean by, “It’s not for you to know”? What is this strange clearing in miles of forest doing here in the first place? Who is Natalie anyway? Rusty just didn’t understand- and he, dying for answers to his questions turned around, and instead of heading back to the ravine, he went off to follow Natalie.
As Rusty walked on, tracing her path with his sharp canine nose, the soreness embedded deep within his legs had returned. He remembered his journey- running through ages of forest and searching for a new home. He remembered the fear pulsing in his heart… just nearly escaping death. Running… from them.
^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>^<^>
Natalie sat and stared at the great oak standing before her, skinned of it’s bark and burned by warriors so passionate that their marks have remained. Laced with pawprints, it stood noble above all the rest. This tree carried the signature marks of great warriors and heaven speakers, saints and fighters, the bravest and the purest ever known to the woods. She hummed a soft song and thought of past times, back in her pup days- memories of her abandonment. She then spoke in soft whispers to the tree, reciting the poems she had been taught by the forest alone, with no elders there to teach her. She sang softly to it’s scarred oaken trunk, “No one knows no one knows, the forest hath spared me, it’s nursed me and fed me to do what is right, no one knows how much I had to fight, but oh, how much you have taught me my mother, oh, how much I know. You have brought me all I’ve ever learned, and that is how I have…”
“NATALIE!” Rusty shouted, dashing through the trees, “I need to know something!”
“If it’s about the meadow” she said firmly “then you know all need be known.”
Rusty groaned, “I don’t like these games Natalie. Please, I really need to know.”
“Why?” she said amusingly, raising her eyebrows.
“Because… well…” Rusty stuttered. “Fine. At least tell me who you are.”
“I’m Natalie”
“Why do you know so much? Oh, and why have I traveled over the whole forest, and you’re the only one I’ve found?”
Natalie paused. She looked a bit sad, like she was remembering things she didn’t want to. “I have lived here -alone- since I was a pup. When I saw you I was shocked.”
“Why? Anyone could have come here!” Rusty said, looking quite confused.
“Rusty. There is an 80 foot trench around these entire woods, it’s 30 ft wide and buried in thorns. there is absolutely no way you could have come here. You scare me, Rusty.”
Rusty looked down at his torn pawpads.
“Thorns!” He gasped. “I walked through thorns to get here!”
MORE 3
Natalie looked at him disbelievingly. “It can’t be”, she gasped, trying to stay steady, “Or can it? Can it really be you?”
Rusty looked at her like she was crazy.
“What?” He said, an eyebrow bent down in suspicion.
She whispered, “Speak softly and kindly my friend, for the forest praises you. Look at this tree. These are the pawprints of many warriors. They cease to exist, but their signature remains. I was raised by the forest. I was the survivor. And when the moment came where my paws became fire I burnt my mark on this ancient wood. But there is a prophecy. One pawspot is empty. The meadow needs you Rusty- and as much as I’d like to say more, I cannot, for the forest forbids me. Read the tree, Rusty… read it!”
Natalie vanished into the woods, and Rusty stood alone, the night fading to dark. What could this all mean?
4
Rusty examined the tree closely. It filled him with an awareness that he had seen this tree before. How could it be? Maybe in a dream, he thought. But each print had lingered in his head his whole life, the massive width of the thing, the bareness to its base- everything. He ran his paws across the naked trunk, feeling the marks and indentations. Burn marks. Paws had burned through the wood. But how? There was no way that any living fox could set his delicate paws to flame, burn through the wood, and stop the burning without causing a lasting and life threatening injury. Rusty shivered. He looked down at his paws. Was this his fate? Was he to set his paws afire, and never walk again? He decided to wait a bit before burning his paws off; get some answers. He then recalled Natalie’s words.
“Read the tree” He whispered. All he saw was paws. What could he read? He looked closer, and stood then, astonished. Each paw had burnt in their pawpads, and pawPRINTS. Even the slightest detail, a swirl, a scar, within the pads was visible. He didn’t understand. You can’t burn that type of thing into wood. He looked closer at the pawpads. He examined each swirl. But there was something he noticed beyond all things, something that stood true on every pawprint. A moon. There was a strange formation within the pads that took on the shape of a moon. Recognizing Natalie’s delicate, soft, feminine paws on the wood, he saw that she carried the same mark. Then, it hit Rusty. He looked at his paws, examining closely the rough black pawpads within them. There was a moon. Now Rusty’s paws began to take on a warm sensation, and when he placed them on the ground, he realized his forearms no longer ached, and he felt stronger than ever. He dowsed his paws in a puddle, attempting to cool them down, but his attempts meant nothing, and as he strained to fight the heat, he soon found all he had done was warm the water to a point where it and his paws were equal in temperature. So Rusty walked, the night fading into a solemn black. He had no trouble seeing, though. His paws were sending off a strange glow that illuminated his path, and though this baffled him, he decided he should take advantage of it.
You don't get much from this chapter quite yet. It's not complete. I think the whole thing is a cliffhanger~
5 THIS ISN'T THE WHOLE THING (of course :9)
Rusty walked along, forever in search of somewhere to rest. He found a small patch of leaves, and was about to settle down when he suddenly remembered the trench Natalie spoke of. It was that in which disabled life to cross over and mingle within the pines of this forest. But how had he gotten over it? There was no way. So despite his fatigue he rose again to his paws, and decided to return to the cliffs follow the ravine back to the thorn patch in which he had passed through to reach this strange and unusual wood. Rusty continued on a ways. He walked past oaks, pines, caves and ridges. He walked until even his newfound strength from his moonlit scar had faded, and his arms were feeling sore. Rusty had never lost is way. Why did he now? Yet with a few last steps of effort, Rusty began to feel a warmth blowing from trees up ahead. He smelled water, and as he drew nearer heard the pop of bubbles, the sound gentle waves. Soon he came across a bubbling spring. The water was an odd color- a strange grey-brown, and it wasn’t muddy, either. It was clear. He could even see the bottom. Within the water he saw some various fish. But one thing caught Rusty’s gaze more than anything- many pebbles were charred.The trees nearest the water were blackened with the scars of many flames. Had there been I fire here? He thought. Shortly after this question struck him, he was feeling dizzy. The world around him began to spin, and his paws began to throb as if they had been buried in red hot charcoals. Half from exhaustion and half from plain sickness to his stomach, his brown-as-bark eyes rolled back in his head, and he fell with a thud onto the gravel.
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2
Natalie breathed in sharply. She sniffed the puddle in which she had just stepped. It was boiling hot. She stared for a moment at it, not certain what it could mean. Then it struck her.
“Oh no” she sighed. “I hope I’m not too late”
Natalie seemed to know exactly where she was going, and she ran as fast as her legs could carry her through tangle of the forest. She darted quickly back and forth, under logs and over rocks, graceful as a cheetah. The smell of smoke was in the air, and as she ran on, it became fiercer. With every step she seemed to become more determined, breathing steadily. The trip she was taking was much longer for her than it had been for Rusty- while he made it in a matter of minutes, Natalie ran along through the pines for nearly forty-five minutes just to come even close to the crystal spring. The pines glistened in the dim moonlight, and Natalie, straining to breathe against the smoke, was exhausted. She had run for miles along the forest’s edge in search of the Spring- and now as the forest thinned, she could see the faint glow of firelight through the scattered trunks of the oaks and pines.
Coughing, and shielding her eyes from the heat that was radiating from fierce flames, she managed to take in her surroundings. The gravel was on fire, despite its resistance to heat. The small spring, edged by trees reflected the firelight- and the pines were ablaze and sending off clouds of smoke into the night sky. Out of the corner of her eye, Natalie spotted some orange-brown fur. She swung her head around and ran quickly across the gravel to the limp body that was Rusty. His eyes were open wide, despite the heat, and his unconsciousness. They shimmered in the light of the fire- and Natalie could see that they had turned a fierce blue.
She closed her eyes tight, and her mouth slightly ajar she faced the moon and began to sing. As she did this, she closed Rusty’s eyelids and pressed her paws on his flank. She sang the words clear into the night-
Do not take him, do not take him
His spirit’s brave, his heart is true
His paws have set the night ablaze
His eyes have turned a radiant blue…
He is…. The prophecy.
At these final words the fire suddenly began to wave through the air, like wind, off the branches, off the gravel, and into a golden, glowing ball, thrashing fierce above the spring. It slowly sunk into the water’s depths, and for a moment, while it sat, submerged, the spring glowed a bright golden-yellow. With one final hiss, the ball died and became ashes which slowly sunk to the bottom of the spring.
<^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><^><
Right on his tail they were, those big grey wolves. Panting, panting, their breath hot on his feet. Brambles lay ahead, and Rusty dived in, knowing that a little pain was worth his life. Looking back, he saw the wolves stop dead in their tracks, mouths gaping, with the look of confusion painted on their faces. They looked at each other, as if testing their sanity. Rusty looked ahead, finally free. But ahead was nothing. Below his feet was nothing. He was floating, nowhere, for only a moment- and suddenly, he was lying next to the ravine, watching the water swirl past . He stood up, confused. The trees were waving, as if the wind was blowing, but the air was as calm as ever. He ran along the side of the ravine. Its water was now red like the red of blood. He soon reached the meadow. His eyes were burning, just burning, as if they were on fire. The blood red ravine hadn’t stopped where it should have, instead it was pouring out into the meadow, staining the ground red, and filling Rusty’s nose with the stench of blood. The sky was black, but through the darkness he saw a big, huge, star. It writhed and quivered as if it was about to explode. Then it turned black as the sky, and slowly fell onto the blood soaken grass of the meadow. This all was happening so fast, and Rusty couldn’t understand the meaning of it all. He heard faint voices, coming from the trees. They were singing to him from the depths of the forest, a sweet melody he had heard in his dreams, time and time again.
Then, all was silent.