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Story Hour
Small Beginnings - Final Update 6/18/04, ITEOTWAWKI, AIFF!
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<blockquote data-quote="Enkhidu" data-source="post: 245551" data-attributes="member: 351"><p><strong>And this is for chtulhuftaghn...</strong></p><p></p><p>Just something to tide our readers over till after the 4th...</p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p></p><p>Interlude…</p><p></p><p></p><p>Booted feet strode purposefully over the uneven ground. The normal underbrush of the Orloff’s Wood had thickened much more this season than had thought it would. Beren Trapper scratched at his chin through his sparse blond beard in puzzlement. He had been working the trap lines for a about a week, and had yet to get one pelt.</p><p></p><p>Most of his snares were tripped, but empty – probably the work off that meddlesome foreigner – but a few had actually been overrun with a thick, thorny growth. Of those, not one had been tripped. <em>That dark skinned woodsman is behind this. He has to be</em>, he thought.</p><p></p><p>Beren checked his trap line map, unfolding the rough cloth, and saw he had only 3 more traps before heading home. Once he crossed the rise he would be able to cut across a grassy field, check the remaining sites, and be home before dusk. He would even have time to rest in the sun for a bit, probably in the knoll up ahead. </p><p></p><p>The oldest Trapper son liked nothing more than to bask in the sun, boots off, and grip the growing grass between his toes. It made him feel like a child again; one who didn’t have to worry about responsibility. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air, and the scent of wildflowers from the field ahead welcomed him. With a soft smile, he picked up his pace and trotted to the top of the hill and the edge of the wood, anxious to see the sun playing across the open green.</p><p></p><p> Instead he looked onto a field choked with a thorny thicket grown waist high that covered the ground as far as the eye could see.</p><p></p><p></p><p>End of Interlude…</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Enkhidu, post: 245551, member: 351"] [b]And this is for chtulhuftaghn...[/b] Just something to tide our readers over till after the 4th... Interlude… Booted feet strode purposefully over the uneven ground. The normal underbrush of the Orloff’s Wood had thickened much more this season than had thought it would. Beren Trapper scratched at his chin through his sparse blond beard in puzzlement. He had been working the trap lines for a about a week, and had yet to get one pelt. Most of his snares were tripped, but empty – probably the work off that meddlesome foreigner – but a few had actually been overrun with a thick, thorny growth. Of those, not one had been tripped. [I]That dark skinned woodsman is behind this. He has to be[/I], he thought. Beren checked his trap line map, unfolding the rough cloth, and saw he had only 3 more traps before heading home. Once he crossed the rise he would be able to cut across a grassy field, check the remaining sites, and be home before dusk. He would even have time to rest in the sun for a bit, probably in the knoll up ahead. The oldest Trapper son liked nothing more than to bask in the sun, boots off, and grip the growing grass between his toes. It made him feel like a child again; one who didn’t have to worry about responsibility. He closed his eyes and sniffed the air, and the scent of wildflowers from the field ahead welcomed him. With a soft smile, he picked up his pace and trotted to the top of the hill and the edge of the wood, anxious to see the sun playing across the open green. Instead he looked onto a field choked with a thorny thicket grown waist high that covered the ground as far as the eye could see. End of Interlude… [/QUOTE]
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