"Pick a Word, Paint a Story #11"

Hello everyone On this occasion I would like to participate in a contest held by @senehasa about "Pick a Word, Paint a Story #11" following my previous entry I would like to invite my friends @dove11 @tammanna and @mehwish-almas to participate in this contest

It was just after dawn that Arya crossed into the great forest at the border of his village. The air was cool, yet the dew still clung to the tips of morning leaves. He breathed the crisp fresh air smelling of earth damp and green leaves. for him this was no normal forest, and this was his natural home where he learned to hunt with father, and listened to and identify nature sounds.

However, this morning was different. There was something that disturbed his feelings, something that made him feel like this forest was talking to him.

Finally, Arya went further in with her heels long touching the lengthiest tree trunks and roots that weren´t rooted to the ground… crying hands covered by moss… Then, at a distance, one could hear the sound of distant chirping of birds (as if they discussing about serious matters).
Arya went deeper kicking roots like large tree trunks who’s hand covered as it hides underground. But in the near distance, birds sang as though talking about crucial matters. One but she paused when the rustling in the leaves sort of wanted to make noise.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

There was no response except for the soft rustling of trees upon wind. Arya ignored the weird sensation and trod closer step by step to her small stream which she always visited. But every step she took that realization grew in intensity until

The bush nearby shook.Arya held her breath, her eyes sharpened, ready to face whatever came from behind the bushes. A small deer jumped out, its eyes full of fear. It ran past her without looking back.

“What the…? Arya muttered.

She continued her steps more cautiously. As she approached the stream, she saw something that surprised her. The large trees across the stream had been cut down. Branches were scattered on the ground, and the once fertile soil was now strewn with heavy vehicle tracks.

Her heart sank. This was her sanctuary, a spot in the woods she used to sit and listen to water flowing.

Despair, all that was left, was tree trunks as though the forest was dead.

Another too, this time closer made Arya listen real. The coughing out from chainsaws far off, rending the peace that once was in a forest. He increased his pace and following the last few trees he saw a group of men chopping trees of and seemed they were living in this forest.

Arya went into a million pieces. He wanted to scream, at them. However, he understood he could not do much. He had to look for another.

That night, Arya returned to the village and gathered several elders who cared about their forest. He told them what he had seen—how the forest that had given them life was now being mercilessly destroyed.

They had to move before its too late.

The following day Arya and more villagers checked out the logging site. The illegal loggers were confronted, they were ordered to get out or else they would the forest is being razed. At first,the loggers laughed at them, but more and more neighbours started arriving making joking fun of them.

Not long after that, the forestry officers Arya had contacted came. The forest was a protected area as they confirmed, and anyone that chopped it down illegally was to be severely punished. The loggers gave up and left their stuff there.

Arya let out a breath of relief. He know that his fight was not over the forest had to be save and the trees hadn't grow back overnight. But he thought because of the people who cared, that provided voice and a soul for life even if it's just a whisper.

And that night, for the first in a long time Arya heard what sleep should sound like — wind purring indistinctly, birds singing and a river flowing pure.