Andulan didn't want to, she,
Resisted at first, but the sight, the smells,
A color most divine, piqued her interest.
Sadistic joy given not chosen, caused her to laugh,
As vines wrapped around her choices, making decisions for her.
Prickling buds erupted from deep below, causing pain to pass over white skin,
Andulan clutched her arms together, left held right as both trembled.
She barred her teeth, felt them grind, heard them chatter.
As her ivy within, forced upon her by father.
Coiled around her person until she was replaced by a monster.
Bright green insults turned her mind ablaze as she realized her dress was now in tatters,
Torn apart by thorns sharp enough, to slice through flighted hides,
Bringing crash to tyranny,
Many Sharin's ago...

From this vantage point he watched,
As that girl of thirteen years, changed into something odd,
A monster not of the present, but of the past,
Twisted by confusion and motivated by denial,
It wouldn't agree with anything outside itself, until it shared,
The silence within.

Rick slung his bow over one shoulder,
Grabbed ahold of lower branches,
Providing a path to higher ground,
Enshrouded by leaves, bitten by toughened bark and plastered by scented pitch,
Rick felt himself flooded and stung by nature's presence, his own song was muffled,
By a song of verdant days spent running,
Through and through without a care,
Bringing youth's glow to bear,
Upon the stones of time.

Christopher, Albert and Richard.
Opened their eyes to the sound of familiar melodies,
Nearing their proximity to reinforce their position,
Upon a realm of strife not of their world,
The three brothers never could stomach violence,
They shied away from arguments, loud voices scared them.
Rick placed his back against a tree, breathing sharply, asking Sharin for a refreshed quiver.
Andulan ordered her vassals to return to her side, come back at once,
This is an embarrassing sight, you are obviously outmatched.
Hard swallows signaled acquiescence that tasted bitter, unlike the wine they imagined,
Awaiting them should they survive.
John, Paul and Kevin stood fanned out at three points in front of Sharin's mobile tree,
Bearing apples for all to see.

Andulan's loyal snakes, chosen from noble bloodlines,
Didn't pay attention to the loss of her protection,
Hearing restored, voices reclaimed, allowed them to speak her name,
As a song previously written, played a record straight through two,
A green arrow with white wings traveled eagerly, banking around to catch another,
Paul's trident, charged forward alongside Kevin's lilting refrain.
He gave a wet surprise, red and pungent, filtering through dire fingers that trembled,
At the sight of its own blood, tinted green by another's legacy.
Kevin applied a different approach, introducing another snake to what it felt like,
To be made to feel completely helpless.
After slicing its arm off, sending it the earth below,
Kevin ****** his sword into its belly,
planted it into the ground, quickly draining it of,
A color most profane.

Song is my choice, what say you brothers?
Rick reloaded his bow, nocked it back, aimed his next assualt,
He'd use symphony to set her free, see the girl released from silence,
Or cleanse her of the inner monster sullying her soul, plaguing her mind,
And crushing her heart.
John smiled, drew back his humming axe for more blows to come,
He rose his tenor to lift leaves and rocks, in clods and clumps,
Stealing foundation away from treacherous underbellies, slithering towards them,
Drawn fangs overflowing with venom, bringing the ground to a sizzle,
Rushed as a blurry confluence of approaching green, darting back and forth,
Paul removed his hand barring Kevin from impulse, allowing him to strike,
Delving into the allowance of angels.

A musical note, high-pitched and heartfelt,
Rustled her dress, a patch of white above her most vital spot.
Pain pierced her, forcing out a broken, rasping cry.
A single bloodied arm, green and quivering, bent back to show,
An arrow meant for her.