Asis guided by his love for the hunt, chose the shape of a lion. The ever proud Veriga an eagle. Saoirse given her thirst for frolic, a hare.
Wee Anjeneek chose the humble acorn.
Asis set out to crush her. Veriga to sup upon her. And Saoirse, she just giggled, and kicked Anjeneek’s acorn into the tall grass, thus making finding her again, a game.
Asis pounced, trampling her into the earth’s soft loam. Vertiga swooped, deftly catching the still laughing Saoirse in her talons and carried her off. Deserted by her friends, poor Anjeneek’s uncertain fate was left to the four winds.
The great oak, Anjeneek, though withered and old, remained firmly rooted hundreds of years hence. Her life celebrated by generation after generation. Her girth rumored to have been host to a myriad of young gods.
Both of these girls have a much firmer grasp on writing fantasy tales than I, but I thought I’d try my hand..