The trees told me when I was at the heart of Lastwailing Wood. Inside me, the wood relaxed, and allowed itself to merge into my flesh, happy that I understood now what needed to be done.
I collected dead wood as quickly as I could manage it. I gathered broken branches from the floor of the forest and carried them by the armful. Heavier branches, coated brown with dried out moss falling off them, I dragged along the ground, and piled them all up against the trunk of a huge tree, wishing I knew what sort of tree it was.
Neville Hunt 7 months ago
Never mind narrator, it'll probably be a burnt one very shortly and therefore of little consequence.
Drew Martyn 7 months ago
Haha you should be there with him - no, on second thoughts I rather think he wouldn't have made it this far :) which would probably be a good thing!