“I don’t believe in ghost stories, kid.”, the man replied with a huff. It was why he was here in the first place -people had warned him, had told him not to do this, but he didn’t give a damn about what they had to say. The forest could be as creepy as it wanted to be, he would get his wood.
“Now run off and tell your stories those superstitious townsfolk if it amuses you so. I don’t have time for this.”.
Nox stared at him. The animal watched silently from behind the trees, poised to attack.
She went to the tree and ran her hand across the harsh cut on the bark. Her father was indeed a woodsman but he highly respected this forest so she tried a different tactic.
“It’s very good wood and I can imagine you’d get a pretty penny for your labours” she detatched a pouch from her belt, jingling it loudly. “I know the value of this wood, this pouch has enough to pay for the tree. It’s yours if you leave. Think about it, you get gold for doing nothing. You can go home early and get the taste of ale on your lips before the sun sets” bribery wasn’t her favourite way to get someone to stop but she knew she had to try.
“You think you have enough to pay for the beauties I could make out of that wood?”, the woodcutter asked, not really believing her. “Let me count your coins and I’ll consider leaving it alone.”.
He didn’t much care if he didn’t have to do any work or not. But if she insisted on him leaving this forest alone, then he wanted enough money to indeed pay what he would’ve made out of that tree. He wasn’t even aware the people in the surrounding villages wouldn’t dare buy something made of wood of this forest.
emptynarration 