Then, finally, after what seemed like a year, I finally reached the Grove.
It was true; the skies indeed had disappeared; only a grey blanket of forbidding clouds covered it all.
The Tree itself seemed to shun me. I walked on, and stopped by the chair-like root I used to enjoy sitting on while reading the leaves and their journals.
A new leaf caught my eye.
I read it and realised the great pain the tree was in.. The journal was so touching, I immediately broke out into tears. I instinctively vowed to make whoever hurt the tree pay for what he did.
What happened next made me realise that I was not welcome here. The Grove began to fade again as soon as I had read that on leaf.
Once again, that feeling of hopelessness and emptiness began to fill me together with grief. I knelt down and gasped as the seer joy and happiness began to sap from me.
The Grove of the Maple tree was leaving - again. The Grove of Eternal Sunset; for everyone but me.
The Padfutonian.
End of current Journal
The Padfutonian
Tyler Schoarnnoth Padfoot
The 18th of February, 1992 A.D.
'Once upon a wintery midnight...'
Fort ISB, Elite Guard of the International Baccalureate