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Chapter 3: Short and Firm like the Armadillo Bark

Chapter 3: Short and Firm like the Armadillo Bark

Along the lakeside lay a grove of trees that encapsulated a husk of land. Land that goes unperturbed, which is all land that does not directly hold a quest or any content of any sort. Making it the perfect amount of seclusion for our recluse.

He made his way into the very center of the grove in which lay a trunk on its side, a forgotten campsite, with sleeping bags and the smoldering remnants of a once light fire. If the lake was where man cleansed his soul and mind, here, in the middle of trees that reached for the skies...here is where he cleansed his body.

Gripping his ax with the strength needed to kill, he moved towards his next tree and began to strike. Hacking away at the crust of the tree was not an easy task, for these trees, in particular, were, Armadillo Cedar. An uncommon breed that is harvested for its bark, but is coveted for the force needed to do so. He had made work of these trees for the past year in which he considered himself retired. Each day, without fail, he would meditate at the crystal lake, hearing its screech each time, then make his way into the groove in order to make his arms screech in turn. The process could take hours, some days, and others, well, that’s why there rested a campsite near, for the days in which his body became like the logs around him.

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When his hands began to shake, when his arms were a flame, and his legs wanting to give way, then we would bend over and collect the fallen bark that made the Armadillo Cedar worth the effort. Only ever collecting just enough, seeing as too much might bring him more disruption than was needed.

Laying down in his sleeping bag he would stare straight into the no longer strange sky. The darkened rift that held not one, but two moons. A sister pair that danced across in the blackest reaches of the world, the duo of time and age, the primeval forces that will long surpass the greatest man or woman alike. He found solace in the moons and depending on the night- power. Tonight was not such a night, for the younger sister, the smaller sister, lay in front, providing celestial strength to the oceans and those who serve them.

Tis too beautiful of a sight to be viewed alone...thought the man to himself.

Then, as if by admitting defeat to the loneliness that rests in the hearts of all solemn men, he closed his eyes on the blacked sky and drifted off to sleep as the graceful sisters danced across the empty dark for another night that will always be followed by another dance.