Golett trudged down the bank of the river with a Honedge strapped to its back. Red roots weaved through the bank's gray sand, drinking the burbling black water that licked the shore. The statue paused, inspecting a discolored patch of ground, before continuing on the alpine start.
The full moon peaked past wisps of clouds, casting bone pale light over the gray valley. Squawks from a distant murder of crows echoed in the night as deep howls of wind rose and fell rhythmically. Dust pinged off the trees as the breeze whistled through their branches, limbs rubbing together like cricket legs.
"I wonder what I will cook for breakfast," the Honedge said.
The statue glanced over its shoulder at the sword, huffed, then trudged on.
"I could saute peppers and mushrooms, then throw some eggs on top."
Golett eyed a fallen tree bridging the two river banks. A stout candle was nestled in the nook of one of the branches, purple glow shimmering off the rolling rapids below. The statue bent over and inspected another dark patch in the sand.
"Peter will turn his nose up at it though… " the Honedge mumbled "he'll only eat chicken nuggets."
"Will you shut up?"
Golett strode forward and shards of petrified wood shot out from under its boot. A black miasma smelling of rot wafted from the stub in the ground.
The statue scrambled up the beach into the woods, the sword yelping as they went. A pair of red eyes watched the departing duo from the water. They sank deeper into the murk as the dark patch Golett trode on retreated into the sand. Its tree shook, groaning, rising from the earth. The trunk split, revealing the writhing black mass living within the wood. Trevenant's crimson eye emerged from its canopy, glaring at the fleeing duo.
The sword's sash strained against the statue's barreled chest. Golett gasped, tumbling through a keratin thicket into mud. Shrapnel flew from the collision, striking a few close crows, now squawking obscenities.
"Too tight…" the statue croaked, clawing at the cloth stranglehold.
"Oh, sorry!" The Honedge loosened its grip enough for Golett to pantomime a shush. There was a knuckle-like crackle as a root struck the ground inches from where they hid, another brushed the debris away.
"You disturbed my land...'' Trevenant's voice rumbled like a rockslide, "and you are the creations of a humannn…"
A few crows flew to the tree's branches, touting hatlike head plumage.
"Kill them, take their flesh!" the Murkrows squawked. The tree waved a branch and the birds quieted.
"They have no flesh."
A vertical split opened down Trevenant's trunk, exposing fangs as long as Golett's greaves. Its gullet quivered, wet with saliva, creeping closer until the ribbed tunnel engulfed them. The Honedge did not even register his own screaming.