SINS OF OUR TONGUES

he was still. everything was still. the birds quieted, the wind calmed. everything on mother earth had paused in their daily life to listen in. he pressed an abstemious ear against the bark, breathing slowly to ensure little interference. treants, being hundreds of years old, really knew how to test your patience. they did not give their information to just anyone, and even once they verified your background, you still had to wait until they were ready.

how long had he been here? he hadn't a clue. but the aged tree had just begun to whisper his secrets when shrill tones muddled the air. the man's lip curled to reveal stained canines, his features twisting into disgusted annoyance. "shhh!" the hiss came out as a borderline snarl, steaming spectacles glancing only briefly toward the rude wench. but it was too late - the treant had spoken his final word and once again fell dormant.

the soot-hued mask of the man was pulled and tugged as his shoulders fell exaggeratedly, his neck losing life and drooping between his legs. slowly he recovered, gradually rising upon vibrating stilts. a controlled anger began to take flight within the beast of a viking man. he looked toward the woman, cleared his throat, and allowed the acidic words to fall like a stale stake from his lips. "you dry, useless wench," he turned toward her, stepping over a gnarled root that had rose and screwed back into the soil. "do you understand what your insolent mouth just caused me to miss?"