Star and Mein skip hand in hand – not giving a fuck! – through the immaculate mossy floor of the swamp. Birds twitter about, adding to the empowering surreality of the place. Star punched at the air, needing to express the sudden, inexplicable violence she felt. They stop at water, lapping like a river at the edges. Though by the look of its lumpiness, penetrated by rises of the lumpy land beneath, it was not. A tree stood some way in. They ventured up to it.
Inside sat a man covered in strange tiny ornaments. His skin was very dark and glistened with oil. The tree-room smelled not sweet, but pleasant.
‘Who are you and what do you want from me?’ was his first question.
 Harsh on them about thought and knowledge like an adult would normally never be – save perhaps a teacher wanting to get banned.

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