Quitetly, Quiggly stepped into the darkness as he stealthily approached and steeled himself as he heard more talking, voices rising in pitch and anger. Then he heard them. “Get off, you pig, now!” “No!” “Don’t-” “No!” “Don’t just stand there!” “No!” “This is not how the game’s supposed to be played!” A low, grunting rumble was all that came from Quiggly, who then ran up to the group and grabbed at one of the players. His heart sank when he saw that it was one of the bolder ones, who seemed at first to think that the large creature attacking him was just another player, until Quiggly brought the boy’s hand up to his nose. “What the …?!” one of the other players screamed as they all drew back a few paces, with the boy in tow. And then, that too, was swept away by the darkness of the woods, leaving behind Quiggly’s only other friends: the forest. He took in the beauty of it all. The trees, intertwined like a family, so diverse and full of life. The crisp, clean air. The serenity and silence. The feeling that this was the only place in all the world that was his. He loved it. He loved everything about it. And then he thought of the dark. Of the games and the rules and of a player that had to learn to love it too. The forest was safe. He was safe. “Come on, Quiggly,” he said out loud, “let’s go home.” Quiggly followed. He ran through the dark woods and smiled as he saw the light glowing in his favourite cave. Quiggly was home. [To be continued] Share this: Print Email Facebook Twitter Reddit Pinterest Tumblr LinkedIn Like this: Like Loading...