[center][img]https://i.imgur.com/AcvF0vG.png[/img][/center]

At the heart of the Tangle, in the warm shadow of the King's Hall, lay the misty blue [url=https://shadowscapes-stephlaw.tumblr.com/image/173364257638]Forest of Gobbledygook[/url].

The [url=https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wpfap1tfrxE]gentle streams gurgled and the gibbons whooped[/url] a haunting echo against the distant walls. Everything here was heavy with green and dew; sunlight filtered dim through the thick canopy and fog tendriled the flower-carpeted ground. Jellyfish cast eerie illumination as they quietly swam through the spaces between the trees. It is here, the folk say, that [i]magic[/i] weaves into each breath and sound --

-- until it all went still.

The great sentinel bees that had for centuries stood guard at the entrance -- the buzz of their enormous wings a constant comfort within the Forest -- were now frozen, fallen statues of blind stone that riddled the path. The King's Door, always open and inviting as long as anyone could remember, was shut tight. The gibbons had all flown off.

[color=peru]"Come with me."[/color] [url=https://www.artstation.com/artwork/z1XLq]Crow[/url] was the King's right-hand and most trusted advisor, known throughout the Tangle for his clever lies and quick fingers. Dark shining feathers molted behind him as he stepped nimbly along the flagstones between the beds of flowers.

Above them, dangling from the mossy branches, were shiny bells and long chimes, and colorful streamers made of delicate silk. There, at the center of it all, was a beautiful garden of succulents, and nestled among them -- the size of a tea saucer -- stood the frozen little form of [url=https://shadowscapes-stephlaw.tumblr.com/post/171804186959/some-clips-from-a-full-painting-timelapse-video]Gobbledygook[/url] herself.

She had been turned to shining obsidian.

Gobbledygook stood on her hind legs, her stone wings spread in suspended preparation for flight, her eyes cast fiercely up toward the canopy and the Cobwebs beyond it. There was a tiny, perfect hole in her scaled chest, vacant and cold.

[color=peru]"No one heard anything,"[/color] Crow explained, hopping into a tree to perch there, raining black feathers. His bright eyes blinked. [color=peru]"At least, no one who can hear now, heard anything when it happened. I suspect hearing something is precisely the reason they can't hear anything now. But who can say what they should have heard, or been listening for?"[/color] He scratched the back of his head, and he shook the feathers from between his fingers. [color=peru]"The bees hadn't left their posts, you see. [i]They[/i] hadn't heard anything, unless they only heard it too late."[/color]

He peered up at the white tower, the King's Hall, that presided over the Tangle. [color=peru]"The King wanted to meet you here himself, but he's so distraught he's been in his room sobbing since it happened."[/color]

Crow leaned forward, his arms balanced on his knees. A few more feathers drifted to the ground as he grinned with a flash of a tooth. [color=peru]"So, then. What do [i]you[/i] think happened?"[/color]