Pick a Word, Paint a Story #21

Hello everyone!

From the given words I have chosen the word TAIL. I will paint a story with this word.

The Tail of Whispering Woods

In the quiet village of Nurabad which is situated between the old hills and the endless fields. There was a forest. Everyone called that forest as Whispering Woods. People do not go there after the sunset. People used to tell stories about the ghosts and strangers with glowing eyes to the children. But the real story of the woods has long been forgotten except by one boy whose name is Arham.

Image by mirijah_photos from Pixabay

Arham was just a 12 years old and he was not like other children. While the other children feared the forest but he was curious about the forest. He believed in the magic and talked to the birds just like they could understand him. One his grandmother whispered to him that every tale holds and tail and every tail holds a secret. He was unable to understand it until that cold morning of the winter.

It was the early December. The ground was completely covered with the white frost. The sky was covered with the old cloth. Arham went to fetch water from the nearby spring. He had a glass bottle. The spring flowed at the edge of the woods. He was well aware of the path. But at that day he saw something strange. It was soft shimmer behind the trees.

He became curious and followed the light in the forest. He walked deeper than ever before until he saw it. It was an animal which was glowing faintly in the cold mist. It looked like a fox. But the tail of fox shimmered with the silver and gold threads. It was looking like the moonlight woven with starlight.

The creature did not run. But it turned and looked at Arham with the eyes full of knowing. You have seen me now it said. It did not say it with mouth but from inside it's head. Arham whispered with pounding heart that who are you?

I am the Guardian of the Last Story the creature replied. Many years ago your people used to believe in magic. They told stories to keep me alive. But now the stories are forgotten. Due to this reason I am fading. Arham felt cold. The tail of the animal was dimming. He asked if he could help.

The creature nodded. It asked him to take my breath in your bottle and carry it to your village. It asked him to released it near a fire and tell a story. It can be any story so remind them.

Arham opened the bottle with the shivering hands. Then a misty breath flower into it. It was glowing gently. He ran to his home through the frost. On that night as the wind started and the fire cracked in the room if his grandmother Arham opened the bottle and told the take of a silver tailed guardian in the forest. Hid siblings listened to the story. His grandmother smiled because he was aware about this.

And as the firelight danced the mist of the bottle sword and it rose. Outside in the whispering woods the tail of the creature glowed once again. For that night on every cold evening brought stories to life and in every take told by the fire made the guardian lived on.

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I invite @mdkamran99, @sojib1996, and @fajrularifst to join this contest.