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Fairies Tales
part 12
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Little Red Hood
part 2
The dark pines swept up over the mountains like an Inky dark sea, their ancient roots cracking through the crumbling moss covered rocks of the dying mountain ranges crests where the village appeared as if it were sinking into the forest, as though at any moment it might be overwhelmed by the wilderness which surrounded it.  It was in this place that there once lived a girl who as with many of the fairies always wore a red hood which had been given to her by her grandmother. She was the soul and spirit of the village. The hopes and dreams of its people, in a land surrounded by a silent forest where mortals could here quite whispers in the trees and would never see most of the things that moved around them but for the site of a shadow out of the corner of their eyes. 
redhood1 Little Redhood as she’d affectionally come to be known by the people of the village  moved swiftly over the cracking, crumbling rocks of the forest her bare toes wiggling in the thick green moss as she prepared to hop up the side of a cragy cliff. A few moments later she’d jumped up over the tall waving pines and beech trees, she waved at a family of eagles just before she shot up over the lip of the mountain to land in the small pool of water that would soon turn into a waterfall as the glacial melt above them reached a tipping point, threatening to 
wash away an ancient fir tree that clung precariously to the side of the mountain.
In the distance the wolves had started to howl, bidding the sun goodnight as she sank down to visit the rest of the world, there would be no moon tonight, but that didn’t matter.
Hello, Lywyn greeted the ancient fir tree nerviously. The twisted pine had been struck by lighting more times now then anyone could remmember yet it somehow survived. Broken and  twisted it branched and forked, almost as warped as the soul that lived within it. Lywyn had never spoken to her, the for the forest and the mountains said she was crazy, even the wood sprites who’d gone quite mad shied away from the old tree.

The village has come to greet me, the fir tree cackled as she pushed her head and upper torso out of the old tree causing the wood to warp and crack. Pine needles rained down on Lywyn who did her best to keep from taking an involuntary step back from the fairy within the fir tree. Are you here to take my wood perhaps, for your fires, for your floors, for your arrows and spears perhaps? The tree grinned as though she would welcome it.
No, Lywyn shook her head as the tree shifted and twisted pushing her roots deep into the mountain so she could lean further over the edge of the cliff to look at village below.
It is beautiful, in its own way, isn’t it the fir tree cackled. But it lacks a certain, drama. It’s far too peaceful don’t you think? The fir tree grinned.
We have our share of problems, Lywyn disagreed.
Such as? the tree asked as she swivvled her long neck to look at Lywyn.
The deer are leaving early for the valley’s below Lywyn, told the fir tree. My grandmother worries that the wolves and people won’t get enough to eat if they do. So I was hoping you could convince them to stay a little longer.
Little Redhood, thats what the people in the village call you now isn’t it? The tree grinned and snickered. It sounds like the name of a bandit. The deer leave early because they know winter is coming early and hard. It will snow so much that come spring when it melts, I’ll be washed away, to crash down onto the rocks below and in my place a waterfall will be born.
The tree snatched Lywyn from the ground and dangled her over the edge of the cliff. Its a long way down the tree laughed. So far down that I’ll expload into tiny splinters and no one will be able to use my wood. The squirrals that live inside me will be essentually insinerated. I’ll miss the birds that come to nest in my branches, and the ducks that swim in the lake. They won’t be able to swim once the water starts moving quickly. You see the tree told Lywyn as pulled her away from the edge of the cliff and dropped her a few feet onto the dry pine needles below her branches. Everything I love will end, I’ve come to accept that now. But I’m bored. Bored  bored bored, of the quite idelic forest. I thought when the village moved in things would change.

 Humans hunt, humans burn, and cut and destory I thought. So surely things are about to get exciting. But they’ve been boring. The spirit that represents the soul of their village is a little girl, so little that they even call her little. She bakes pies and worries about deer leaving too early.
What are you saying, Lywyn stepped back away from the giant tree uncertianly.
I’m about to make things a little more interesting, the tree laughed manacly. So if I were you I’d worry more about that than I would about the deer leaving too early.
What are you going to do? Lywyn asked fear creeping into her voice.
Nothing the fir tree grinned, thats the beauty of it you see. I’ve been protecting the forest for so long, keeping order that I’d like to know what will happen when I stop. Its going to happen next year anyways, so I figured I’ll let it begin a little early.
My grandmother, Lywyn started to disagree.
The mountain is far to old to do much of anything any longer the fir tree laughed. She’s crumbling down, as sick as any fairy can get. If she was capable of much any longer would you be here speaking to me about something as simple as deer migrations? Chaos, maddness, pain, it desends on it all like a glorious sunset spelling the end of the daytime, the tree cracked and twisted as she shook with glee sending another shower of pine needles onto Lywyn.

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