Waldemar Brandt at Unsplash
“I tell you, I know what I saw,” Hans said passionately.
“You couldn’t have. Everyone knows that these lands were cleared of them years ago,” Dieter replied.
“What are you two arguing about?” Karl asked, sitting down next to Hans.
“Nothing of any importance,” Dieter said.
“That’s not true,” Hans said indignantly. “I saw an Ogre in the wood.”
“If you did, how have you lived to tell of it?” Dieter challenged.
“I was lucky, or downwind, or something.”
“Or something,” Dieter mocked.
“Wait,” Karl interrupted. “In the Fallun Wood?”
“Yes,” Hans said.
“It wasn’t just me then,” Karl said leaning in and lowering his voice. “I found some odd tracks about a week ago and tried to dismiss it, then yesterday I saw something big deep in the treeline. I think we might have a problem here.”
“The problem . . . ,” Dieter almost shouted, before being hushed by the other two. “The problem is my two best mates have gone mad.”
Karl cut him off and whispered, “We need to check this out, but we farmers ain’t meant for such things. We need to have a look, but we need help.”
“What about Otis,” Hans whispered. “He was a warrior.”
“So now you want to get a sixty-year old all caught up in your craziness?” Dieter challenged.
“It can’t hurt to be sure,” Karl said. “If anyone can tell us if we’re fools or not on this, Otis is the one.”
“Fine,” Dieter said. “I can always use someone to back up my opinions.”
Padre
Padre's Ramblings 