Deep in the woods, far past the designated campgrounds, the forest was serene, all but glowing with verdant life. Birds sang to each other and fluttered their wings in mock chases. Squirrels, fat from the campers that left food out or took it upon themselves to feed the wildlife, spiraled around rough trunks of oak trees or curled up in the smooth branches of birch. Ferns and foliage carpeted the ground, broken up by narrow deer trails that meandered like arteries in the greater living thing that the forest truly was. Golden sunshine lit up motes of pollen floating lazily in the air.
Among the peaceful scene, grunts of pain and discomfort barely broke into the tranquil sound. A voice smaller than the chatters of a squirrel muttered something, and then huffed in frustration. Its source hung from a tree branch, suspended in a net of thin, earthy-colored ropes.
Bowman Leafwing could fit one arm through the openings of the net and no more. He tried his best anyway, straining against his bonds and cursing to himself. Whoever would leave something so dangerous around would have some answering to do, as soon as he tracked down the responsible party.
Brothers Apart 