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   You should have known it was a mistake the moment you stepped into the forest. The birds had gone silent long before you set foot on the loam covering the ground, and there was nothing except the scritching noise of frightened squirrels fleeing past you. But you knew it was just a bit further ahead, now--you knew you couldn't give up and run, not this close to the goal. Of, you wanted to--every iota in your being was screaming for you to escape except for the tiny portion of your brain that goaded you, over and over, to go deeper into the lair of the beast. By the time you really recognized the danger, it was already too late. The air had grown heavy. The scent of rotting seed filled the air. Broken feathers were strew across the forest floor as a grizly warning. Your survival instinct finally kicked in, sending you turning and sprinting back down the path on which you had come. You never made it all the way back. You had scarcely taken three steps when you came face-to-face with the emperor of the forest: before you, huge and menacing, there stood a Dire Chocobo. |
