You've come to the wrong story, boy. You've no cape. No basket. Nothing loyal following you.
Did you remember your stones? Children nowadays don't use breadcrumbs, do they?
You traipse through my home. Crashing loud and waking my children, uninvited, for what?
SPEAK! Form the words. Fast, boy!
Little boys love dares, was it a bet? Did a pretty birdie distract you?
Have you thought we were figments? Pieces of caution thrown together by Mommy and Daddy?
Our woods aren't for you. We left a long time ago. Left the petty ones that dripped filth. Left the stink of those that move without a soul. They called us the monsters. So we left. This is our home. These woods are now ours and YOU are now ours. A delicious morsel granted by the trees.
Look at you, shivering, such tasty fluff. Listen.
Hear that scraping?
My children are itching to tear, boy. Rip and feast. Hear their need? There is meat and they are hungry. Dinner never came to us before.
photo via pixabay
.Thank you for reading!