Good morning one and all. I will admit that I very much wanted to curl up and stay in bed today. Rain descended in the night and it was not a pretty morning. Unfortunately I rolled over and misjudged how much blanket was covering me so a wash of cold air flew in under the covers. It wasn’t as jolting as a bucket of cold water thrown over my head, but it was close. And so I actually got out of bed before my alarm today. Not my intention or preference, but here we are. Actually on time for a change. So let’s get going. Are you ready for the morning prompt? Good, I’d hate to be on time for no reason. So set the timers for fifteen minutes and let’s get this day started.
I kind of like this one. I think I’d have to figure out if this is a fantasy tale or not before I could decide what is in the woods. But it could be fun.
Tuesday, November 15th: Clouds scuttled across the sky.
Clouds scuttled across the sky. What had been a bright bowl of unmarked blue only a few hours before was swiftly filling with ominous looking clouds. Devon stared at the sky, wondering how his luck turned so quickly. He woke up feeling as bright as that sky. He had his day planned and knew that everything would go his way. And it had.
He skirted past Old Humphrey without having him add any more chores to his list. He made it through his chores in record time thanks mostly to Gert the mean old sow being more interested in her grub than in making trouble for him. He fairly sprinted through his list of chores and before anyone could think to add to the list, he grabbed his satchel of supplies and took himself off where he would be hard to find for a while.
In fact his destination was one he had staked out in his mind as a place to go when he finally got the opportunity. The small clearing wasn’t deep into the forest, he knew better than to delve too deeply into the old wood. This part of the forest was well within bounds even if it was well hidden from sight of the main house as well as all it’s out buildings. There were horses who grazed out this way in long summer afternoons, but it would be a while before anyone came looking for them as the fence line and their own good sense would keep them from straying past the safe zones.
Once in the glade Devon settled himself. He sat down on the dry ground and pulled his satchel close, opening the flap. Inside was his most prized position, a notebook of blank pages specifically designed for drawing and a bit of charcoal. He had long since gotten into the habit of searching the coals for suitable pieces when it was his turn to deal with the morning fire. The charcoal was always easy enough to come by even if it took a lot of searching to find the pieces suitable for drawing. It was the notebook that was precious. He saved up his few rare coins for months to be able to purchase it and kept it safe from prying eyes and curious eyes.
He opened to one of the pages and turned his attention to the tree. He noticed the last time he passed this way that the leaves were lighter in color underneath than they were on top. Sometimes when the wind blew they would flash their colors dark to light as the breeze took them. While he only had the black and gray the charcoal gave him and the white of the page, he was hoping to catch this blending of shades on his page.
He worked diligently, losing time until his efforts were finally starting to pay off. A sound drew him out of his task and he saw movement in the woods. Movement that shouldn’t have been. It was then that things started to go wrong.
Ten til Midnight 