"Please just let me go."      Lude flipped the pages of his eyes open. He had been having a dream. A dream about being kidnapped, abducted and taken captive and tortured mercilessly.  He was glad that he was back to reality. But reality seemed to suck. Seemed to suck eighteen bags of ridicule.      He looked around. His neighbors were trees. There were fallen twigs all around him and he had no idea how he had gotten there.    If he was familiar with the formation and breeds of the trees he would say which was which and of course arrive at a sane conclusion. But he actually had no idea of what they were.      There was a less throdden path glazed with shrubs. He saw footprints from the rear but couldn't be sure if twas humane or just some animal's.       To his left was another pat

         "I won't die. No! I won't."   He kept tumbling through the climbers and creepers. He ducked as many twigs and trunks as possible but couldn't help bumping into many as well. Twas the fate of running through a forest.     He began to wonder why the creature actually let go of him. It simply could had killed him or something but he had let go. He couldn't understand.    On several occasions during his course of tumbling and running had he fallen victim of wild cats. Not in person, to say, but very close enough to be in person. Most times he just escaped the direction of the noise.    For he to had gone that far, he kept himself rest assured that he was going to live. He allowed himself to believe that.     The trees were wearing out and the twigs were getting lighter. He could feel the rays of

      "You don't say that about a man, you have no idea what a typical man can do. Let alone the one who's so pressed. Bet with me, he's even going to poo in your food."    Light laugh serrated, like the saw do to the wet tree. Then the leader of the Six said in mockery,     "Spill that. What'd you mean by saying that? To ridicule him? He's a man of course. Or you meant to say he's a woman?"    There was a struggle to make humor out of it by the six, but since he was their leader, whether humorous or not, they were bound to laugh of course.     Then at once, one of the two fellows who seemed to have this distinct flow stopped. He raised his hand to shun all who were feigning the laughter.      "You don't boss around, man. Put your hand down, I'm the boss here."   The boss stepped for

     "There's a monster closing up pace and might come to hunt our village down."   The tough guy said as soon as he bowed to the Monarch. His heart which had been thumping knew peace and his ears erect.     Twas known to all of them that the Monarch had no mercy of words. He would speak gently for only few who could make meaning of it.    Many had owed it to the fact that he was suffering from some disease no one had an idea of and no cure to.    But some said, twas genetic and that he contracted it from his grandparents.     The Monarch was sitting on an elevated chair made from boabab and there were two men standing by him, fanning him.     The tough guy and Lude were standing before him, while on their right and left were chiefs who championed the course of the Monarch. 

      "I don't think this is a good idea."    She said. He halted. He was sweeping the whole strength he had in him into a bowl. He needed to survive for her sake. He was the one who had brought her into the woods. He should protect her and not die on her.    But how about if she wasn't helping situations like she was doing at that moment. Seemed more to him like he would be left with no sane choice but to retort.     But he was a grown up ass. He should be the one to talk her outta her fears.     She was holding unto him, supporting him from falling, yet he could throw her away.     He was leaning on her, and half of her side were buried in his chest. He could feel the weight of her boobs on his chest.     Even if he was feeling some ruthless pain reaching for the tip of his co