NARRATOR'S POV
Have you ever heard the voices of the woods? The calling of the winds, the sound of each creature that roams under the bright silver moon. Under a great oak tree lies beneath, two young men. Both are sleeping soundly. The campfire is now diminished into a pile of ashes and half-burnt firewoods. Around them, spread a thick fog. Hiding them from the rest of the world.
None of them noticed, neither of them saw it. The crow resting on the treetop as they rested their sore bodies. The mother's desire to protect her child could reach the peak of evil, it was love and it is pure- for people like them at least.
The death of so many matters less than a spared breathe.
The thought of filthy humans killing Amber, angers her. He child, her tool. She will never allow it- never in a million years. They are above them, more valuable than the rest of this decaying world.
