and so the king beast trounced and pounced and shounced and shouted and he ate and gobbled everything up, except one little tiny morsel of a cute thing that scuuuurieeeeed and scrammed itself away  “Nothing! THAN I am nothing!!!!” ‘why?’‘because that little thing got away?’“YES!”‘it is ok, little things sometimes scurry away, but you are a proud and beastly king.’‘these things need not bother such a great king as yourself.’“AND yet, it makes me FEEL, still, FEEL so small...”‘yes this can happen.’‘even to such a great and beastly thing as yourself.’“AM I such a SMALL thing that I cannot eat WHAT I WANT whenever I WANT???”‘you can eat whatever you want.’‘perhaps you allow the little things to thrive by themselves?’‘you don’t eat everything!’“OF course not! Then who would see me EAT?!”

and so a heavy paw rises and the 2 tinies are now able to shakily stand to their feet and cower before a mighty and great beastie.“Now run and scamper off you little darling things.”the hard booming of the beasties voice knocks them back down quick fast. but there is nothing malicious in that booming voice, only strength and booming and loud percussive force.‘perhaps we can tag along for a bit?’‘i’ve, i’ve, i’ve never felt so safe before’their voices break and quiver, but their hope for, something, ally, life shines bright. and all of it is mercilessly and completely lost on such a mighty and brightly beastie.“HAHAHA, yes little ones, you want to see how a real KING beast tramps and stramps through the night? Come and watch me eats and feasts.”‘aaaahhh but we are so tiny!’‘won’t we be trampled so easy?’“NO NO NO, no such thing, I shall protect you little things, you shall feast upon my feast, watch a real KING beast in action! ...and if I’m unlucky tonight perhaps I shall eats you HAHAHAHA!”The laugh booms and presses against them, but there is no malice, only arrogance and ignorance and a huge and frightening thing being a huge and frightening thing.‘thank you great king.’‘we are excited to see you in action great king.’

so 2 tinies cower forward into black, damp blindness. horrible and terribly wicked sounds echo and scurry around them as a wet, dense copper waft fills their noses too full. their tiny hearts beat, blat, blast against their chest, pounding deafening booms against their ear drums, until they feel a heavy hand gently encompass them and pin them gently flat against the ground.“Awww, my first meal has arrived so easily.”the voice is deep and resonate and chases all courage and hope from every corner and crevice.‘meal?’‘surely one as mighty as yourself could never be nourished by such tiny morsels.’“Ha, true, but you are merely the first morsel the night has bestowed.”‘but why ruin what will obviously be such a mighty and delicious meal?’‘we are the tiniest and sourest of tiny things and we can tell from your mighty paw’s grip you are a beastie of great renown, deserving of scrumptious, delicious and satisfying morsels.’‘we could never die with peace knowing we so poorly began your night’s meal so sour and unsatisfying.’“Awwww, I so rarely find such class and respect in these woods. You think and act well to think and act so rightly to a beastie such as myself. You are right, I deserve much better than such little things as you. You are a meal meant for some ugly and undeserving thing.”

darkness seeps thick and thicker as creaks and whines and gurgles burble towards 2 tinie tiny tinies, now cautiously stepping forward  hand in hand into darkness. the woods engulf them. a sharp crack snaps quick to their right and they cower holding each other tightly. the crack is quickly followed by a wet snap and a frantic fury of sinew, bone and muscle obscured in dark and brush. to their left and just above them another too quick snap, crack, squeal and the 2 tinies can only whisper whimpers to each other. ‘i am afraid.’‘me too.’‘do not lose me.’‘never.’2 tiny hands clasp tighter as 2 tinies hands beat harder.

the day draws towards it’s end and the weight of reality begins to fall heavier and heavier with the dipping light. on the horizon they see the ships sailing back home and they have no idea how to stop the inevitable. but they are clever and brave and wild and they look to one another in silence thinking of a way out.“let’s run away.”“yes! but where?”as the night continues to seep into the shadowed and dark places they hear many wild sounds begin to rise behind them.“into the woods.”“we’ll never survive.”barely a whisper, but a reckless hope has been given life.“maybe, but we’ll be together.”“yes, we’ll be together.”and so 2 tiny hands clasp as 2 tinies rise to their feet and contently, confidently walk into the darkening woods, smiles uncontained and wild.

as they both turn to their tiny tinie little towns they realize it all at once and sudden. they are enemies, a thing real and ancient, they are from different towns, different sides, they’re different....“you know we’re not so different”“yeah i think we kinda have a lot in common”“the ships have already sailed, so maybe we can just sit and talk a bit”“yeah, let’s sit and talk, a bit”and so 2 tiny souls falter and stumble head over heels for one another, looking for answers, finding frustration and laughs, but forward they trek, ever committed to the light and bright and impossible.

‘oh, why?’a small chuckle sweetly wafts from them both. and so unfolds the story of 2 tiny little tinies who hopped into a tiny and little row boat together one odd night on their way to a near by fire on the shore, to drink and eat and eats and drinks and drinks and maybe eats some more, confused to how they met and enjoying sweet circumstance their oars lapped less and less as they talked and joked and stared deep into one another until transfixed. the moon dips deep and the sun begins to rise and they hold each other close and fall asleep to dream of together. the morning comes and the ships all sail away. they wake long after and smile sweetly to one another. today they miss the battle, but they happily stare into each other and row back to shore and step upon those soft, sandy shores and sweetly turn to walk back to their town, only to realize they’ve turned from each other and they are enemies.

‘good morning’‘we are not gods...’...smiles and coughs and knowing winks and nods push through hazy smokes and hazy, sunny rays  )()()the o0ld on3s...the 0ddd one$l;;; 3never seem sh00000w U>p”””...“This can be true”a puff of bluish smoke raises and wafts through the aire, stinky but still oddly sweet “But sometimes not”a simple and true smile shines from an old and weathered mouth of crooked teeth and sharp eyes crowded with earned and worn wrinkles“true...but we are here....and there are no gods and we are here...and where are the go...”“Shhhhhhhhh....”a pause ensues....truth can be hard to see and so they all squint and smile...4 gals stand before 2 old tinies...no gods among them....but truth burns to tell true......“You might be right”...“We ran away long ago”

the 4 gals grow sleepy as the sun begins to rise, they struggle to stay awake and watch the cute tinies begin to wake up and row their little boats back home, most going the right way and some going wrong, everyone groggy and a little cross and wanting a hot breakfast before they all set sail back into the thick, quick, hit of battle again.“Sad how everyone can come together so easily at the end of the day.”“And start all the hate back up in the morning.”the tiny voices from behind startle the girls and they quickly turn around to find a tiny old man and tiny old lady sitting next to each other holding hands on a log not far away. they are both dressed in dark green tunics and thick, ripped, tattered brown pants. the lady smiles sweetly as the old man winks, nods his head and lights up the tiniest smoking pipe the gals have ever seen.“Good morning.”“Yes good morning beautiful ones, are you the gods who have returned?”

and soon homes and taverns and streets are filled with light and fire and laughter and food and drinks, some are dressed in blue and red and some are dressed in red and blue, and some mix and some mingle unknowingly happy amongst one another. the towns seem connected in their togetherness and commons. at times the towns feel connected, but the looming ships still sit idle and testament in the bay, their wounds real and deep and recent. at random fights break out of the night, until they die back down again. at random laughter and song shine bright until they quiet down again. the night grows deeper as little tinies laugh and climb into tiny boats and float and bob and rock in the bay, watching the fresh hanging moon peek out from behind the cloudy, deep sky. they talk and share and laugh and cry, the tiny ships do not notice how they mingle and mix amongst one another. 4 gals creep farther back into the darkness and forest behind them to watch. 2 tiny towns mix and mingle and there is no hate as the moon hangs high over a happy and peaceful, sleepy, sweet scene.