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He backed away from the pain, and from the gust came, almost as a wicked trance, a cannon ball firing and bursting through the table, breaking even through the thickest layers of the house.
It was mere meters that prevented the disembowelment of her hand, the blindness of the eye.
The cannon subsidies back, and it was the fear in her eyes that she could not deny.
'What was that?
You haven't told me about that.
''I'm terribly sorry my dear, though it seems our time is running short.
'She pointed at it, the burning oak, replaced by trees, corrupted and misguided by the shaped form.
'This is it, make the choice!
'Her voices echoed as the branches approached, stretching from the other side of the room, demanding everything of her.
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