The sense of danger chilled Timpoochee like gathering darkness.
He quickly surveyed the trees, the moss, the shrubs; the rocks that yielded the great oaks, the silverbell and basswood surrounding him.
His fear urged him to dash uphill, up the mountain, away from the river to the safety of the spruce and the hemlock.
But the water called him back. That clear flowing stream, refreshing and life giving. The creatures within it, fish and frogs and salamanders.
In an eddy at the bank’s edge Timpoochee peered into the crystal reflection of the sun spirit dancing on the surface of the long man…