As the ever vigilant guard dogs finally scented and chased the interloping Pied Piper out from the castle’s protective corridors, fierce currents of blast-hot air whipped about her gown and through her entangling hair as she stood backlit upon the night’s parapet overlooking the flickering scenery of the courtyard down below and clutched her barely-retrieved heart, wound-bleeding in her trembling yet careful hands, then coddled it against her now thrice-emptied bossom.
Watching him scramble with a yelp of fear over the barbed wire fencing where he had before just so easily glided through locked gate’s entry by seductive spellcasting, she wondered if there’d ever be a worthy suitor calling, now that the flames set by such earnest yet fleeting passion burned black scorch marks into the resistant, ancient-aged timber walls behind her, and her soul ached with regret as memory of his alluring song released its grip upon her.
Candid Corvid Productions 