1

The two Dryads that had traveled east only to see their mother perish lingered at the top of the trees, away from the intruders. They gathered the shattered remains of the Dryope, feeling a primitive sadness within their beings. Much like a newborn baby entering the world, these creatures rose from their gestation period with only trace remnants of the souls they used to be. As such, they imprinted onto their matriarch very similarly to humans.

As their tentacles wrapped around the gnarled chunks of wood left behind, the Dryads moaned grievously and looked to each other for behavioral signals. But as primal creatures, they did not have the capacity for reason or hope.

Their development followed a very linear plane. Once their wooden bodies took form in the primordial stew of the birthing floor, their mental abilities grew slowly. Basic speech patterns and sparse words developed within days, but they wouldn’t master rudimentary communication for another two years.

Having been recent births, these Dryads were very limited. “Pay,” the larger one hissed as its tentacles fluttered behind it. Its cobalt eyes glowed even in the bright sunlight.

The second monster countered, stretching its long appendages toward the lair that lay beneath the realm’s eastern border. “Home,” the creature moaned.

As Damon’s group searched for Kylah and Lorenzo, the two monsters clucked like chickens, locked in a primitive stalemate. Finally, the larger Dryad grunted its acquiescence and the creatures raced east, carrying the lifeless remains of the beast that had made them.

2

The Dryads laid their mother’s shattered remains onto the timber-caged floor, instinctively wishing for a sort of metamorphosis or reawakening. But the wooden chunks sank slowly into the organic residue and afterbirth. The magic they had hoped for didn’t occur. Seated within the fragments of the Dryope’s head, the matriarch’s once blue eye remained the color of driftwood and showed no signs of life.

The creatures groaned, disillusioned by the inactivity. Looming over them, the realm’s border displayed a kaleidoscope of colors and distortions. Within the shadows of that forest, which defied the sun-drenched day, the Dryads’ eyes reduced down to slits.

“Pay,” the larger monster growled, and this time, its smaller counterpart reciprocated, hissing its fury. They stared northwest and took off like leopards across the treetops.