Nahrazuje téma č. 8: Otrávené jablko
The grove looked like all four seasons lived there next to each other.
The children started to pick flowers to weave them into crowns.
Some even splashed in the babbling brook.
Only when one of them reached to pick an apple from an impossibly autumnal tree the cleric caught their hand.
"Whoever you are," he spoke to the air. "Show yourself. We mean no harm. We just want to pass through."
The trees seemed to hold their breath for a heartbeat.
"Your hands are full of blood," the grove answered. "Your mind is poisoned by war. The children deserve better!"