The bright green of the large oaks leaves slowly faded, replaced by the browns and oranges of Autumn, the leaves darkened further and then began to curl in on themselves and fall like rain to the ground, now the sinewy strength of the trees limbs began to leave it, twigs and branches growing brittle and weak, eventually they began to fall, no longer able to sustain their weight, when they landed the weakened wood burst into pieces spraying chunks everywhere. Now all that remained was the great gnarled trunk, the bark flaked and began to fall, the light greenish colour of living wood slowly drained until all that was left was a husk of the once great tree.
Qiang pulled himself 'his spear' from the tree, the point had pierced the thick bark and lodged in the heartwood, as the spear 'himself' was removed the husk gave one last groan and collapsed in on itself, a tree that might have lived for a thousand more years reduced to dust.
He felt invigorated, fresh even, as he had not been for days. On the road his steps had a new bounce in them and he walked upright and quickly, on the road to Arcia.
At the gates he was challenged by the guards, one nervously examining his spear 'him', the other a grizzled veteran demanding his reason for visiting Arcia. Oh how he longed to spill their blood, these short lived fools, they had so little time and yet they spent it guarding a gate. He spat in the direction of the nervous guard and was rewarded well when the guard jerked backwards.
"I'm here for the wedding"
The older guard shot a disdainful look at his compatriot and nodded Qiang through.