Mourning their loved ones had ended their happiness abruptly. The end of spring had brought sadness and bereavement to the tress as it did each year. The memories of happiness had faded from the sun and disappeared into the wind. The ground and all her residents sang their silent song of grief as the grasses rubbed against each other in effort to reignite the joy of the past but to no avail, autumn had welcomed herself into their once joyous kingdom. Relentless. Endless, her tyrannical reign had exiled the ones that tried to escape, executed the ones they loved and revolted against the Spirit of Nature. The ones that survived were the brave. Their names were to be sung out through the cruel, biting winter nights and they were the ones that danced to their ancestors with only grave memories of their pasts.
