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I was a mile into the forest when I spotted it. A waiting tree. A giant oak if you will. On it’s branches sat a large horned owl with yellow eyes. A hunter of noise and nighttime movement. It was just after sundown and the woods were starting to whisper. The shapes were shifting like they always did. I had walked far enough to notice there was something on the other side of the giant oak tree. Something in my intuition told me to turn away and investigate in the morning. I quietly moved off, not wanting to run into a witch in the woods at this hour. 

 

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