The Bush Tail
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- Parts 1
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Mon, Aug 8, 2016
Prolouge
"Every tale of heroism and adventure always seems to begin with some abstract yearning of men," thought the man who called himself Bush Tailed. The tantalizing secret of his vision always seemed to elude him.
His musings were interupted by the sound of crackling fire. He observed his companions. Sitting round the fire, his companions regarded the flames in reverent silence.
Ezo, the half-elf, an honor bound Paladin, looked deep into the crimson tongues rising into the nighted air.
Gi, the Impling thief, the only one not looking into the flame patrolled the camp, his crossbow nocked, and red eyes seeing every detail in the dark.
Rovash, the Golden Dragon seemed to not be regarding the Bush tail, instead focusing on honing the edge of his fearsome Battle Axe.
The only one who seemed to show the slightest interest in his tale, was Dalae, that mysterious, quiet woman. Her eyes shifting from the fire to the dark haired ranger, "Let me tell you. It began on my 16th name day...
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"Who's out there?" One of the men yelled. Of course only silence met them. I remained quiet and waited for the group to start moving again. "Maybe it was just an animal." Someone whispered. The person, who I assumed was the captain of the small squad, signaled for them to walk again. They clearly showed fear as they kept going; brandishing their weapons to guard themselves with. "Two are holding lanterns. I'll tell you when you're too close to them." I heard my friend whisper in my ear. I followed the men as I picked up another branch and waited for the right time to break it. They continued to walk through the forest, turning their heads in every direction as if an animal might lunge at them and rip their throats out. I guess in a way I was going to do that. "Go back a few feet." My friend whispered. I carefully distanced myself from the group and waited. "Where is she?" I quickly snapped the stick as soon as he finished asking the question. They stopped and two soldiers raised their lanterns to shine its light in the darkness. I quickly hid behind a tree before both of them turned where I was. A low frustrated growl came from one of the men, "The girl's playing with us. She's out here following our every move." How paranoia can cloud the mind. At nine years old, Silver decided to leave her village for the forest. Since then, she's been hunted; everyday is a fight for her life, every breath she takes could be her last, but she's determined to stay alive. Her life isn't the kind anyone would want to live but she's managed to survive this long so, what's a few more years?
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