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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.
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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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