A worried Mr. Trembletrip asks his wife “Where is that troublemaker Snippy? Time to pack and move”
“Oh dear! Must be with his friends. But why move?”
“Those two-leggers are too close; their dragon-houses are heating up the forest. Too much smoke – too little water.”
“But where will we go?”
“Dunno! The council is arranging the migration.”
“Can’t we call the Sentinel Trees?”
“How? We lost the ‘Horn of Life’ long back.”
Hiding high on one of the sleeping sentinel trees, Snippy steps back and trips on something shaped like an old horn.
The forest echoes with a booming sound. The Sentinel Trees starts stretching their limbs after centuries of sleep.
Written for Friday Fictioneers – hosted by the great Rochelle. One more rerun that I haven’t tried on the first run.
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