The woods go on for miles and miles. As they walk, there are strange noises. There are twigs, snapping; snuffles in the shadows. A tree creaks.
They couldn’t fly because there were always people in these woods, people with bows and arrows.
Electra whips her head round as an owl hoots. She clings to Aria’s side, sucking her thumb.
“It’s okay Electra, it’s okay.” Aria reassures her, but she’s not so sure herself.
After a few more minutes of walking, Gryphon stops.
“Okay, let’s make camp for the night.”
“Oh no, not here! Please not here!” Electra whispered. Gryphon ignored her.
He laid out the blankets, and out of his sack he pulled some soft, feather pillows. From the area they were in, he picked up some logs and leaves and piled them up. Feeling the gas gathering in his throat, he instinctively started sparking. A jet of fire flew from his mouth into the pile of dry, crackly leaves.
Aria and Gryphon snuggled down between their blankets and feel asleep from exhaustion, but Electra couldn’t sleep. Every time she closed her eyes she saw a tall, silhouetted man bending over her, and then a dog leaping up and… and… she couldn’t even bare to think about that night. And was so sure it was here. This clearing; those trees.
Electra stood up. Wrapping Aria’s jacket around her, she walked slowly towards the old oak tree.
“The oldest oak in the forest this is my dear.”