Bran and the carcass.
Bran smelt damp.
An earthy woodie damp warmed by a winters sun.
He could hear the worms truning in the earth, ants and wood lice crawl over the earth floor. And birds.
Many chattering flying as only youthful birds fly.
Before his eyes opened he knew he was in a forest and it was the start of spring.
He smelt lead.
He looked down and their on the the ground was the bullet which had been rejected out of his brain.
An image of Catbad firing that gun flashed in his mind and he growled.
He felt a cool breeze brushing by his coat and he breathed deeply in.
He was surprised by what he smelt or rather by what he didn't smell.
The air was fresh.
To fresh.
Their was no pollution.
Not so much as one atom.
He was no longer in the twenty first century or even two hundred years before it.
Then he smelt a rotten smell.
The unmistakable smell of a carcass.
He turned in its direction and his eyes found its source.
A lumpy mound lying about twenty feet away on the earth ground.
Probably a dead deer or calf.
He needed meat.
He hoped it wasn't to rancid.
He trotted in its direction.
As he got closer the mound took shape.
It was no calf or deer.
It was human.
Smelt male.
Beggars can't be choosers.
The blond hair looked familiar.
Then he saw its face or what was left of it.
Cu Culainn.
YOU ARE READING
Secrets of the Druids
FantasyEleven year old Abbie is about to be taking on a great adventure. Where destiny awaits. God help destiny. All will change. *************************** Last summer one night as we sat round our back garden Abbie me eleven year old daught...
