In a far far off land, GreenBryer, two huntsman were deep in the forest. The year had taken them through Summer, and hints of Autumn blanketed the area. Cool breezes were wrestling the tree branches. The leaves were only just beginning to alter color. The morning dew laid glistening the ground.
As the huntsman stabbed the grown with their walking sticks, birds chirped and squirrels sat nibbling on their latest meal. The grass shifted and rabbits came dashing past their feet.
Greenbryer was established on an old Native American farm land. From generation to generation since, families continued farming, thus producing rich fertilizer for the soil. The harvest tastes better than anything store bought. The flavor is like a party is the mouth, and the sight of such makes the towns people salivate.
The huntsmen head out to these woods once a week for catching deer. The wives create many meals with very little. Upon this particular excursion, as the men approached Devil’s Drop, a stunning sight abruptly stopped them in their tracks.
The Great Buck stood at the edge, noble and proud as ever. Legend has it Chief Chippewa and Haritow were the leaders of the Cherokee Native Americans in the area. They were inseparable; the best of companions. When the buffalo stamped threatened the settlement, Chief and his right hand buck chased them out. When the October rain flooded the watering system, the two assured everyone kept safe and the water rerouted. When a child was born, Haritow laid with him/her the evening of birth… establishing a trust between the two.
The men stood warned. His ghostly figure had only been seen the eve of a great disaster. They bowed their heads in gratitude and hurried back to ground.
Written for The Eclectic Contrarian ” Tell The Story Challenge “
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