The orb inside a lantern glowed a soft purple, as if inviting Robin to approach it. She stared at the mark etched into its surface, transfixed by its calming and curious nature—she had never seen anything like it. Robin drifted closer to the lantern and reached out, fingers tracing the grooves of the iron and reveling in the warmth of the orb behind the glass. She turned it carefully and searched for some sort of latch, completely forgetting about the owl above of her.
She felt it before she saw it.
The skin on her back bristled and she broke into a cold sweat. Orange and purple reflected off metal, and she leaped back, rapidly scanning the skies above her. She watched the arrow rotate as it soared through the air, before it nicked the owl and lodging itself in a branch with a hearty thump. She searched for the source, trying to pinpoint the source of the palpable malicious intent, but it was too dark to see. Orange tendrils of light stretched out into the night sky, the sound of water trickling emerged from the darkness further ahead, and the ticking deep within the dead tree continued unforgivingly—something was very, very wrong.
She turned to the two other girls on the surface of the mushroom and considered leaving them; her urgency to flee had increased, but she still had no idea about where she was or how she got there—they were the only ones in the forest that didn’t seem to convey feelings of malice. They mirrored back her ignorance.
If they were to leave the ominous white tree, that meant they were to be leaving their only source of light. Robin returned to the lantern and pulled at it insistently, trying to separate the shimmering thread from the iron frame. She took a hold of the string and snapped it in half, severing the lantern from it’s hold.
She felt it before she saw it.
The skin on her back bristled and she broke into a cold sweat. Orange and purple reflected off metal, and she leaped back, rapidly scanning the skies above her. She watched the arrow rotate as it soared through the air, before it nicked the owl and lodging itself in a branch with a hearty thump. She searched for the source, trying to pinpoint the source of the palpable malicious intent, but it was too dark to see. Orange tendrils of light stretched out into the night sky, the sound of water trickling emerged from the darkness further ahead, and the ticking deep within the dead tree continued unforgivingly—something was very, very wrong.
She turned to the two other girls on the surface of the mushroom and considered leaving them; her urgency to flee had increased, but she still had no idea about where she was or how she got there—they were the only ones in the forest that didn’t seem to convey feelings of malice. They mirrored back her ignorance.
If they were to leave the ominous white tree, that meant they were to be leaving their only source of light. Robin returned to the lantern and pulled at it insistently, trying to separate the shimmering thread from the iron frame. She took a hold of the string and snapped it in half, severing the lantern from it’s hold.