Sword of Eryndor
Masoodimagine yourself in a frozen forestblessed are the curious for they shall have adventuresadventure of a young manwalking together with a living crystal of snow
"His name shocked Eryndor 'How has the tree come to know my name?' As he was still regaining his consciousness, Eryndor blurted out: 'Who's there?"
Youngling's young greenish leaves trembled, releasing a faint and smothe rustle, as Elderwood's gentle voice enveloped her. 'Eryndor will save me, won't he?' she whispered, her delicate petals unfolding like tiny hands clasped in prayers. A tender shoot of hope sprouted within her, its tender tip reaching for the warmth of promise. Her roots deepened, clinging to the earth, as if unwilling to let go. "May I live long!"
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