bombs. The first bombs. The gnome's primary school was totally destroyed.
Our house was right, smack, in the middle of a bare area. A prime target.
All that night, there were flaming pinecones, hurtling across the sky into our borders. The school has been closed, shops have shut down and people have been moving into the depths of the woods.
YOU ARE READING
The Woodland War
FantasyA bootifool story that i wrote when i was nine years old. it follows sum fantasy kids through war, love, bitchiness, creepiness and of course... sprite boi
