Writer's Cramp entry/ nod to Elfquest™. |
| Among unearthly forests where fine, foreign wildflowers thrive, musky troll caves echo bees, & honey-bears devour heavy hives. When dusk reveals two moons: slices clean from lemon pie, emerging elves flit branch to trunk; Father Tree is watchtower, alive. A huntress young flies running, desperate as the fleeing white-tailed doe aware of nothing but the now - the need, this hour, to survive. Behind her runs a human, waving violent-fire on a massive club chasing fragile elf with hate, a cyclone-driven thunder shower’s drive. He presses panicked prey unwitting to the edge of vast-sea’s broken cliffs; Her death ensured, she howls defiant. Brave and graceful is her dour dive. note ▶︎ |