Tremors of nervous tingling surged through Odin’s veins, robbing him of his strength. Sweat glistened on his cold skin. He sensed his very being floating away and imagined his body belonging somewhere else. He fought to keep his mind in the moment and to ward off panic.
Punga led Odin in the direction of the smoke circling above tall trees. The moon returned and her light exposed a winding path, partially hidden by the growth of dwarfed spruce. As they continued down the path, they could see the smoke was billowing out of a barely visible stone chimney. Within the branches of a grand white spruce towering above the forest’s other trees, they heard the sound of a small creature chattering loudly. The chattering soon was answered by the honking of what Punga thought might be geese.
Sensing that Odin’s body was now shivering with chills, Punga shouted encouragement to his friend. The benevolent moon cast her light across the dark path to expose heavily branched yew trees standing like faithful guards. Punga recognized the velvety purple vines clinging to the tree trunks. They were bewitching herbs that emitted toxic pollen capable of causing delirium in a troll. Punga yanked at Odin’s beard and shouted at him to stop. Too late, the ailing mountain troll was already befuddled from the herbs.
Thoroughly dazed, Odin staggered on. Just ahead, Punga saw an old rusty gate. Behind the gate grew a giant yew tree. The tree’s massive trunk ballooned into a skull- like hollow in the center of the tree root. Openings in the root were ablaze with burning lanterns. The skull appeared alive as the enchanting blues, greens, and reds reflected and danced off the tangled bark. Kind, oblong eyes beckoned Odin and Punga to come closer.
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Geese hissing and honking loudly interrupted Odin’s muddled trance. In his weakened condition, he could not avoid the angry white geese waddling toward him. Necks extended, the ganders of the gaggle were determined to keep him away from the gate. He attempted to beat them off with his tail as they nipped at his hairy legs with blunted beaks. Meanwhile, Punga scrambled to the top of Odin’s head for protection; geese eat Jerusalem crickets.
Manti heard her fisher’s chatter and the geese honking their alarm. It took time for her to put on her two pairs of glasses and properly adjust them on the tip of her narrow nose, but soon she stepped out of her home to investigate the commotion. She saw a husky male troll with a head of red hair limping along. He appeared to be talking to himself while clumsily fighting off her geese.
Through blurred eyes, Odin thought he saw a white twisted tree hobbling toward him. Silhouetted in the moonlight’s shadows, his hazy mind recognized the tree; it was an old female troll with moonbeams glistening off her bristly white hair. Odin watched as she limped toward the gate, her gnarled limbs swaying rhythmically back and forth.
Ferocious when protecting their territory, the geese continued to peck at Odin until Manti came close and shooed them away. Content with their conduct and nodding in agreement, they ruffled their wings, quibbling in soft murmurs, then loud squawks. Manti knew the troll had to be suffering from the spells cast by the herbs. But as he stumbled toward her gate, she sensed something even more serious had occurred.