The messenger tripped on the roots of the largest tree in the forest.
Shielding his eyes from the trickling sunlight, he gazed high into the tree tops.
Howling monkeys leapt from tree to tree, all seemingly in agreement that the intruder was indeed an unfamiliar.
Producing the parchment in a strained hand, this would make the ninety-ninth wanted poster he would have posted in the last half hour. Reaching for his hammer and a rusty nail he proceeded to hammer the royal decree unto the thick bark.
http://www.genericrevolution.com/amtgard/Alice.pdf
Steeping back, the messenger wiped his weeping brow and sighed. The creaking caused a sense of renewed urgency in his primitive instincts.
The large branch swept down with surprising speed, sending the insect of a man into an adjacent tree.
He wasn't sure if it was the snapping of branches or his own skull that sounded so grotesque.
Fleeting images before slipping away flashed before his eyes.
The tree had come to life. The sound of ripping paper was slowly followed by a deep rumble, like a growl. Crumpling paper broke the eerie silence.
He could see her.
She stood next to the giant oak. A concerned look seemed to gaze back at him.
'Hel...p....m...eeeee...'
A smile crept unto her sanguine lips, a wink and she slide behind the tree.
Silence.
The man with the broken spine would later be found by a royal 'scout'. A hammer, a pouch of rusty nails, a stack of wanted posters were all that identified the man as a loyal subject.
It was the crumpled blood stained parchment that lay at the base of the oldest tree in the clearing that would raise much concern.
News would reach the outlands and the monarch himself.
Time was drawing at an end.
Time to play.
S
[con't]
