The air was thick with the scent of the pine trees, old and green with age. Anarya went forward through them, her bow and arrow ready. Taraphiel followed bradishing her knife, the blade glowing white in the cool night air.
The sudden sound of a stick breaking underfoot sent both into a frenzy of readying their weapons.
"Who is it?!" Anarya called out into the shadowed eaves.
"Not so loud!" Taraphiel whispered back harshly, "They might not be friendly."
It was too late though, someone had already heard them...
__________________
Snow white! Snow White! O' Lady Clear! O' Queen Beyond the Western Seas!
O' light to us that wander here amid the world of woven trees!
|