The boy with fiery hair looked through the window again. Aged trees were nodding in the wind, casting shadows on the small wooden cottage sitting on the edge of the forest. The full moon illuminated the area with a silver glow. An owl started hooting. The boy really liked gazing at this greenwood. There were mysterious paths, in different directions, seemingly with no end. The only evidence of other life were the footprints preserved in the mud, heading towards the centre of the forest. Disturbingly, these tracks only went into the forest, there were none that came out. This was detering the observant travellers, but there were still some who used the path. He never saw their faces again. The boy often went to the forest, alone or accompanied. But they did not go so deep. He enjoyed those blustery days out, as for him it was like the trees were whispering to him, inviting him deeper into the forest or telling him unknown histories of the forest. This place was, for him, always mysterious and full of terror. His contemplation was interrupted when he saw his companion out the window, running towards the cottage. He seemed to be scared. His eyes were widened with fear.
The boy ran to the closed entry, from time to time stumbling over protruding, and decayed planking. He opened the door. His friend ran inside, closing it behind him with all his might. He leaned on it, slowly sinking onto the floor. For a long time he was breathing heavily and was not answering the questioning look of his fiery-haired friend. Finally, panting, he started explaining how he had come across some strange monster. His story was hard to believe, but after multiple enquiries of the scared youth, the boy looked once again through the window.
The trees and grass reflected the blood moon’s scarlet glow, giving them an eerie appearance. The branches were not swinging, because the wind had stopped blowing, making the forest seem lifeless. Everywhere was in deaf silence, which was after a moment stopped by a rustling of the leaves and a quiet growl. Suddenly, the boy beheld a mighty snout that seemed to be a wolf’s, which regressed behind the wall. A tarred fur was glistening in the rufous colour glow. The beast was next to the window. The white, starry eye without iris or pupil. He heard the mighty claws make deep slashes on the wooden wall of the cottage. The creature stared at him for a while, thereon it lifted itself up. Its torso disappeared from his view, but he saw long limbs, resembling dark posts. The beast slowly went in the direction known only by it, lifting thin paws taloned by metered claws.
The boy looked at his friend in shock. He was right. His claims about the monster were not false. The Beast From the Green Forest really did exist. They were in more danger than he had first realised.
