The Tree

Night fell swiftly over the woods, casting down shadows. The wind stirred the branches. And distant flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, warning about the approaching storm.An old villager hurriedly walked down a trail home. His stooped posture and shaky limbs spoke of his old age and nervousness at getting caught outside the village so late in the day.

"Stop calling me that! It's not my name!""Herobrine! Herobrine!

"... This place. I have a good feeling about it." Steve's uncle declared, pointing at the large crack on the table next to his cup. Steve's other uncle and the rest of their miner friends nodded, their faces serious and thoughtful. Steve stifled a giggle.Turning at him suspiciously, the men saw only a pair of blue, innocent eyes looking back at them. Steve put another spoon of stew in his mouth. The grown-ups turned back to deciding the next destination point in their journey.

He was dreaming. He knew this, because he had dreams like this before.Hero curiously looked around himself.Enormous, ancient trunks of trees rose impossibly high in the air. Each of them even bigger than his own tree at home. These trees were real giants, their twisting branches spread out and

Grake held the little Human until he finally fell asleep in his arms and then gently settled him down and covered him with his blanket. Then, he quietly left.The old villager stepped out of the barn, wincing at the creaking of the door when he carefully shut it behind him. He then returned to the house, where his childhood friend sat at the family table and studied a half-filled cup of sweet berry juice.