These woods are lovely, dark and deep, the gnarled faced man thought. He hunted for the glass phial. His quest was hampered by having only one working eye left. All the better to seek the glass bottle that held the remedy. He stumbled through the tree tunnel. He passed the site of last year's incident.
In a blinding flash its memory came back to him. 'Seek and ye shall find,' it had said. He was drawn by birdsong to a clearing in the thicket. Raised on a stump was the object of his desire.
