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|The Boy and the Cursed Witch|
August 6, 2018
Over the shoulders of the mountains lay vast foliage. Its growth spread as far as the icy shores would allow them to. The trees stood tall and proud, threatening the height of the rigid mountains. Everything from the leaves to the still shrubs sprouting from endless paths bathed in lifeless white. A cold atmosphere trapped the forest in what seemed like forever, and the wind was even colder.
There wasn’t a sound to be heard in the Chesney Woods, for the spirits were not usually active during daylight, and the animals have since been long gone. The wind of the west called out slowly, soon picking up into a chilling howl. A crisp shade of red washed over the bare backs of the enormous trees, which bent out of shape towards the ground. And then, all at once, shadows burned and dusk dawned with an impending storm.
In between the limp branches, two knights trudged their way through the mounds of snow. Their heavy suits made it extremely hard to maneuver in, what with the increasing snowfall, too. But, nonetheless, the men carried on.