After the suspicion subsided, only after a few minutes, his immediate thought was to go back to Grunk. He felt as if he knew a solution to help Courtney come back. He thought of a plan quickly so she would not suspect him of anything.
“Hey, babe?”
“What?!” She turns sharply at him.
Christopher furrows his brow, knowing that’s not the real her and just something else talking. He takes her hand and says, “I think we need to go back to Grunk’s hut and give him a proper goodbye. I think that we should invite him to dinner at our house in the city.” Courtney’s hand turns as cold as ice, it felt empty, almost as if holding nothing.
“No, I think we should just go back to the house. I mean, didn’t you come back to find me anyways? Besides, I thought you didn’t even like him considering we left so quickly.” She says while slowly gripping his hand, giving it a slight pull. With unwavering determination, Christopher force pulled Courtney into him and says, “Were going. NOW.”
The whispers continue to envelop Courtney even louder and Christopher clings to her shattered entity moving toward Grunk’s hut. A once serene and lively forest, an eerie hush fell upon the towering trees and lush foliage. The air, once filled with the melodic symphony of chirping birds and rustling leaves, now hung heavy with an unsettling stillness. The entire forest seemed to hold its breath, as though frozen in time. Underneath the dense canopy, bewildered creatures peered out from their hiding places. Squirrels clung to tree branches, their tails twitching nervously. Birds perched on moss-covered branches ceased their joyful songs, their beady eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of disturbance. Even the wise old owl, usually perched high in the ancient oaks, exchanged worried glances.
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Suddenly, a distant echo reverberated through the trees—a sound that sent shivers down the spines of every creature in the Enchanted Grove. It was not the familiar growl of a distant thunderstorm or the soothing patter of raindrops. Instead, it was an ominous resonance, a dissonant chord that struck fear into the hearts of even the bravest inhabitants. The Enchanted Grove, once a haven of tranquility, found itself plunged into an unfamiliar state of disarray. The shocked creatures and worried animals continued to peer cautiously from their hiding spots, uncertain of the source of the disturbance that had shattered the serene symphony of their beloved woodland home.
In the past, Grunk had saved the Enchanted Grove from an evil vengeful spirit that enveloped the largest tree in the forest. The spirit encased the oak tree, grinding and twisting its roots, knotting the wood together as if constricted by a python but worse. The oak tree made a low, guttural groan as if it was a human moaning in pain and agony. That spirit used to be a druid elf that hung himself on that tree. He died from shame and remorse. The sorrow of this druid was so conscience-stricken he couldn’t bear it no more. Grunk was the only one that heard these moans and felt this sense of crying for help from the oak tree and its inhabitants. Is it true? Is the spirit back to return to the living world once more? No. This was something more cynical.