I decided to post some short stories, just for my own giggles! :)
Grimurl had to rest. He halted, heaving clouds of breath into the cool night air. Laying a hand against a towering oak, he could feel Nature's lifeblood coursing through its woody veins. He glanced around him, and decided he had taken the right direction—this forest was thick with trees that had been born centuries ago.
Villagers shouting for Grimurl's blood echoed through the woods, reverberating off each leaf on every tree. Their violent calls terrified the young satyr. There would be no escape this time, thought Grimurl and in a single bound, his goat legs propelled him onto the treetops. He climbed several feet higher, finding a long sturdy branch, he crawled to where it met the tree's crown. Still shivering, half from fear and half from the chill in the breeze, Grimurl huddled himself close to the tree so the wood warmed him. It was delightful, Nature wrapped her leaves around him and for a moment he forgot he was being hunted.
Grimurl cursed under his breath when he spied the pinpoints of torchlight bobbing among the trees. He remembered. But it was an accident. Grimurl had not meant to frighten the woman. He just wanted to ask her about the roses in her garden. Perhaps his legs had frightened her, he thought, studying the hairy appendages. No, that couldn't be it—maybe the sound of his hoofs on her floor? No—they sound just like a horse's...his horns! "That's it," he whispered excitedly to himself. Grimurl felt the small curved bones atop his head.
Maybe he could reason with the villagers, yes that is a great idea, Grimurl thought. He would properly introduce himself, let the woman feel his horns to prove they're harmless. If that didn't work he would show the woman the field where the perfect flowers grow, and even give her his finest flute. Of course, that had to work! Grimurl began the awkward climb down the oak. If only he was not afraid of heights he would jump, he thought. "You old fool, why'd you jump up here?" he asked himself with giggle and a bleat.
Grimurl turned around as he made his way down through the branches. He wanted to be able to talk to the villagers when they found him. Suddenly, the sensation of fire struck his chest and his heart seized. Clutching the arrow in his chest, Grimurl cried out in pain and fell from the tree.
End of Part 1
Grimurl had to rest. He halted, heaving clouds of breath into the cool night air. Laying a hand against a towering oak, he could feel Nature's lifeblood coursing through its woody veins. He glanced around him, and decided he had taken the right direction—this forest was thick with trees that had been born centuries ago.
Villagers shouting for Grimurl's blood echoed through the woods, reverberating off each leaf on every tree. Their violent calls terrified the young satyr. There would be no escape this time, thought Grimurl and in a single bound, his goat legs propelled him onto the treetops. He climbed several feet higher, finding a long sturdy branch, he crawled to where it met the tree's crown. Still shivering, half from fear and half from the chill in the breeze, Grimurl huddled himself close to the tree so the wood warmed him. It was delightful, Nature wrapped her leaves around him and for a moment he forgot he was being hunted.
Grimurl cursed under his breath when he spied the pinpoints of torchlight bobbing among the trees. He remembered. But it was an accident. Grimurl had not meant to frighten the woman. He just wanted to ask her about the roses in her garden. Perhaps his legs had frightened her, he thought, studying the hairy appendages. No, that couldn't be it—maybe the sound of his hoofs on her floor? No—they sound just like a horse's...his horns! "That's it," he whispered excitedly to himself. Grimurl felt the small curved bones atop his head.
Maybe he could reason with the villagers, yes that is a great idea, Grimurl thought. He would properly introduce himself, let the woman feel his horns to prove they're harmless. If that didn't work he would show the woman the field where the perfect flowers grow, and even give her his finest flute. Of course, that had to work! Grimurl began the awkward climb down the oak. If only he was not afraid of heights he would jump, he thought. "You old fool, why'd you jump up here?" he asked himself with giggle and a bleat.
Grimurl turned around as he made his way down through the branches. He wanted to be able to talk to the villagers when they found him. Suddenly, the sensation of fire struck his chest and his heart seized. Clutching the arrow in his chest, Grimurl cried out in pain and fell from the tree.
End of Part 1
2 comments:
Sweet idea, nicely executed!
Thanks, I appreciate it!
Post a Comment