From the east; the windy-wood sound of a maple flute echoed a song.
Dusk settled, cold came upon the rolling hills of green
where the loose dirt held sunken boulders of many shapes and shades of grey.
They were scattered across the plains.
And the trickling sound of running water can be heard
making quickly down the river’s belly to the west.
Behind a thick grey stone that towered over all;
not a man, nor a woman was sitting at it’s base.
There was a shape, a long top body and a long pair of legs.
And the shadows that grew darker
revealed a bounty of hair from head to toe;
it flickered in the steady calm of a breeze.
And a great sword resting on the side of the tall rock also gave shadow.
The sun shifted a little more.
And the shadows took greater shape;
a snout, perhaps a beak.
It surely was no creature of a kind that is known in these lands.
There was another, behind the shadows casted by the mysterious being.
This secret, I should keep.
The woodsy sound of the flute, ceased.
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