I'm going to finish up my story series in the next few days. I wonder if I'll be able to get back into the flow? Instead of focusing my thoughts on this story, my little break has actually detached me from the plot :( It's very odd. I honestly can't think at all of what to write next. I have a feeling that this installment will be mostly rubbish. I'm forcing myself to write right now, even though I have had all day. What is wrong with me? Is this writers block? I hope not; I need to finish up the Perla Vardo series soon. Gah! I shouldn't be writing here, saying how I can't write, I need to actually be writing. I hardly remember what I wrote before. What if I use the exact same writing technique twice?
Even before the cataclysmic Ragnarok, Ethantropia had always been strange. It was like no other forest in the whole world. The north side of the forest, from which the group entered, was a dark and quite frankly, scary place. "Doesn't light ever manage to come down into this forgotten place?" wondered Perla. "Despite their appearance frightful, these trees are quite tall and hardy, and near the top of the tree the leaves are very thick.".
In his peripheral vision, Perla sighted what looked to be a figure running in the darkness.
"What was that?" asked Perla, his nerves starting to get on him.
"What was what, Perla?" answered Tu.
"I heard a noise, and I saw something. I just know I did." said Perla, swallowing in anxiety.
"There are many critters, small and large in this forest, Perla. I suggest that you get used to it."
In the distance, there appeared to be what looked like a log cabin. It was made of fine, sturdy oak, with a pine roof. Although there was a chimney, by the lack of smoke it was apparent that no fire was in the fireplace. A nervous old man just coming out the door, possibly going out on some sort of expedition. He was frightful looking, with a scruffy beard and a torn jacket.
"Hey mister!" Perla yelled out. "Can you help us?"
"Aahh! Talking toys!" screamed the old man in distress. "You be more of those demons, I'd wager. But you won't be serving me on a platter with cranberry pudding and roast duck, no sir!"
He was holding a hunting rifle that had seen better days in his weathered hands. Much to Perla's fright, he started shooting at them! "Back! Back I say!" he roared. This old man, of course, did not mean any harm. Well he did, due to the fact he was trying to kill them, but if they all sat down for a nice bit of tea I'm sure all of them would get along just nicely. Sadly, this was not possible in this instance.
Running as fast as their assorted feet could carry them, the trio escaped the flying bullets. The old man, satisfied that the intruders were run off, retreated back into his cabin. "What was that for?" asked Perla, as he sat down on a log to catch his breath. "When you think about it Perla, walking and talking toys are a bit of an abnormality in the land of humans." answered Tu. Now Perla had never heard of anything of the sort. Living in the old house, he had always assumed that toys and humans lived together in the world. Finding out the contrary was only a small step in the direction of the knowledge he would attain soon, however.
To be continued...
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