Clang!

“Hey, what is happening? What is this thing?” wondered the snapping turtle. Lowering his head, he rammed forward, but the metal cage would not budge. “Why can’t I get out?” Over and over, he clawed at the bars until blood trickled onto the ground. When spasms overtook both his back legs, he stopped pushing. Letting out a low moan, he rested his head on the ground and went to sleep, hoping someone—anyone except the poacher—would come along. A couple of hours later, in the quiet of the Emerald Forest, a warrior from the north stopped to rest under a black oak tree. It wasn’t long before her eyes closed. When the sun started to lower in the sky, voices woke him up. Looking over, the turtle saw two warriors facing each other, weapons drawn. The one with bright red hair, clad in armor, demanded to know who the other warrior was. The second, with reddish-brown hair, held a knife dripping with black slime. On the ground lay pieces of a black, spiked vine. “Squeak, squeak!” called the turtle as loudly as he could, but the two women didn’t hear him. Their voices grew louder as their conversation quickened. “I wish they would shut up and find me. If only I was old enough to shoot sparks out of my spikes like my mom. I’m almost a year old. I should try.” The turtle squeezed his eyes shut until deep wrinkles formed on his face. “Sparks, sparks, sparks!” he said, but nothing happened. “Maybe if I rattle this cage, they will hear me?” Lowering his head, he slammed into the door again, but the women kept arguing. After a few minutes, their voices calmed. “My name is Warrior Kathleen, Protector of the Woodlands.” “I am Warrior Sharon from the north. I’m looking for a new job and a place to live. I didn’t mean any disrespect.” While they spoke, the turtle struck the metal bars with his back feet, letting out a groan. Kathleen turned around. “What was that?” “It came from over there,” said Sharon, pointing toward some bushes. “Look, there’s a turtle in a small cage!” The two women walked over to the enclosure. “Hold still, my friend, I’ll have this open in no time,” Kathleen said as she leaned down. Before she could open the cage, Sharon took her septum and pried the door open. They stared at each other for a brief moment and then laughed. “Look at you, saving the snapper.” “I love animals. People who illegally trap them should be severely punished.” “I couldn’t agree more,” replied Kathleen, as she picked up the animal and examined him. The turtle’s eyes softened, and he kept his beak closed. “Well, little guy, you’re going to need some care for those wounds.” He lowered his head and closed his eyes. “No worries, I’m not going to keep you in a cage. You can come back to camp with me. I’ll help mend those sores, and then you can be on your way.” “Wait a minute! I saved him. I’ll take care of him,” exclaimed Sharon. “You’re welcome to follow me back to camp, then. Let’s go,” said Kathleen, turning toward Iota Path. “Where exactly are you taking us?” “To my home. I’ll tell you about being a Protector of the Woodlands on our walk. Maybe you’d like to help me safeguard plants and animals?” “Maybe,” answered Sharon, taking the turtle from Kathleen. “I think I’ll call you Spartacus.” The turtle frowned at her as a small spark shot from one of his spikes. The two warriors laughed as the turtle glared at them. Sharon smirked. “Spartacus fits him, but I’m not sure he likes it. How about the nickname Sparks?” The turtle shot several more flares and lifted his head proudly. The two women chuckled as the three of them headed down Iota Road through the Emerald Forest.

Entered by: 0x7BB5…3E05