Suddenly a strange gust of wind came blowing down upon the assembled guests, but at the last it rounded in upon itself, turning and twisting in its path, so that none was touched.
Well, none but one. The Wraith found himself (itself?)turned upside down, spiralling up, up, and into an ancient yew tree, where he hung, cloak twisted around the needled branches. The same gust shook an apple tree nearby, and several apples rolled over the ground, to rest at the mouth of the panting steed. Then the wind strangely assumed an echoing cheer, so that people swore they could hear:
Yes, gallop, do gallop, do gallop you may,
But slacken the stirrup and loosen the bit,
For in the Old Forest even horses do play.
The steed shook its head and helped itself to the apples, snorting up at the Wraith caught in the tree. Another strange burst of wind shook the yew and the Wraith tumbled free, unhurt but dishelved and somewhat chagrined. [img]smilies/wink.gif[/img]
[ September 18, 2002: Message edited by: Bethberry ]
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I’ll sing his roots off. I’ll sing a wind up and blow leaf and branch away.
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