Vault of Shadows
“Most of which were phrases he’d have gotten in deep, deep trouble for saying around his mom.
It wasn’t Oakenayl . . .
. . . but it was a face Milo recognized.
A tree face. A woodland spirit face. One that Milo had twice glimpsed briefly in the forest on this side of Lake Pontchartrain. Now, in the clear glow of morning light, Milo could see that it definitely wasn’t the oak boy. The face wasn’t covered in oak bark but was instead the more graceful bark of a weeping willow, and it was framed by long tendrils of soft green leaves. And it wasn’t a boy. Even though it was impossible to tell gender by the strong body of living wood, the face had a decidedly feminine cast. Cleaner lines, more delicate shoulders, larger and more expressive eyes, and a general air of grace that Oakenayl never displayed. The eyes were filled with sadness, and there were worry lines etched around the corners of her mouth.
“I ran into her while I was out doing my business,” said Shark. “And yes, I’m traumatized,... thanks for asking.”MoreLess
It wasn’t Oakenayl . . .
. . . but it was a face Milo recognized.
A tree face. A woodland spirit face. One that Milo had twice glimpsed briefly in the forest on this side of Lake Pontchartrain. Now, in the clear glow of morning light, Milo could see that it definitely wasn’t the oak boy. The face wasn’t covered in oak bark but was instead the more graceful bark of a weeping willow, and it was framed by long tendrils of soft green leaves. And it wasn’t a boy. Even though it was impossible to tell gender by the strong body of living wood, the face had a decidedly feminine cast. Cleaner lines, more delicate shoulders, larger and more expressive eyes, and a general air of grace that Oakenayl never displayed. The eyes were filled with sadness, and there were worry lines etched around the corners of her mouth.
“I ran into her while I was out doing my business,” said Shark. “And yes, I’m traumatized,... thanks for asking.”MoreLess
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