lonelytree.

a tree bound soul, so it was written, purest in the form of flora & fauna. a deer-folk. the last of their kind, so to speak, one with unique leaves embedded in their hair & antlers. whenever someone would come across them, either by chance or choice, the person was always said to be at their utmost calm; no matter the situation, their eyes were shut, mouth curved into a polite, delightful smile, hands clasped over their front. if they had a documented childhood, it was commonly assumed that they would’ve been raised by a foreign tribe of deer-folk & flora-people.

itrapped took interest in them. he took such utmost interest in them it wasn’t even funny— he scoured just about every inch of the internet scouring for information on them. from what he’d found, lonelytree was a former advisor for the people of their village, & had been driven out shortly after the expose of their ..powers had taken place. itrapped frowned. powers? what sort of powers did they have? it was mentioned in many forums that they were capable of inhumane features, yet that didn’t exactly chalk up to them having powers. nowhere was it written what they could do that was exactly “inhumane”— he’d have to find out himself. he’d find lonelytree, rediscover them, bring them back to civilisation—show them everything they’d missed out on, & finally be with the person he’d been pining over for so long through the separation of a screen.

so, he set off. didn’t even pack up a bag; all he took was his precious darkheart sword, just in case. he set off towards the woods, not even telling his friends where he set off to. he wandered, for days on end, trekking through the forest marshlands, bathed in complete shade from the overhanging branches & leaves…

until he finally reached it.

a tall hill. a near mountain, be it, it was so tall. a lofty tree sat at the top of the hill, an overlooming willow with a curtain of leaves blanketing the surrounding of the trunk.

just where the forums said lonelytree resided; an area of pure solace, concealed by a curtain of flora.

he smiled.

itrapped trekked to the top of the hill, using his darkheart as a help to heave himself up to the top. he reached it, panting, chest heaving with extortion as he finally reared up to the very top of the hill. he looked up, breathing heavy through his nose, at the curtain of willow branches that hid the bark of the tree from sight. he couldn’t just weave through the curtain; he knew better than to muscle in on territory unknown to mankind itself.

so, instead, he displayed a show of reverence; knelt down on one knee, planting the blade of his darkheart in to the grass beside his rest. he bowed his head down, low down, unspeaking, unmoving.

hoping.