After carefully considering all your options you decide to take the well known but little used path through the forest to the south. You know it may not be the safest choice but for some reason you feel that it is the right one. You’re not sure why but it is almost as though something in the forest is calling to you.
As you head out of town along a small unused path through old rotten gardens and even older dilapidated houses you start to think about all the old stories people have told you about the forest. Over the years there has been an abundance of intriguing if not over exaggerated stories about the old forest that slowly creeps closer with every step you take. The more you walk the harder you find it to keep the stories of danger and adventure from popping into your head. You recall Stories about giant ogres and evil beast, ancient wizards and tribes of wild men, hidden castles and secret kingdoms. You don’t know if any of these tale contain the least bit of truth but you ponder them just the same.
Old man Heathrow’s stories in particular seem to keep rising to the forefront of your over active consciousness. You can hear his voice in your head telling you all about the peaceful unicorns and the savage trolls. He goes on about many different things some good some bad but, all of them you’ve heard before. His small creaky voice is just as powerfully captivating playing back in your head as it was when he first told you the stories years and years ago when you were only a small child.
Your pace quickens as the old folk tales begin to both excited and frighten you. The forest is close now and you try hard to fight back the fear by clinging to the excitement. Not all of the stories were bad. You tell yourself in a reassuring tone. After all the unicorns are great and noble creatures. So the forest can’t be all bad. Feeling slightly better you even dare to let a small smile play across your lips as you take your first steps down the path that leads through the ancient forest.
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