"You know samson, There was something strange about that voice. Too beautiful to be real. Maybe it was a mysterious being, a wood sprite …" Phillip was saying as the two laid against a tree, Samson chomping on lilies in the small pond beside them. The horse looked up and saw the animals running off with the prince's clothes and neighed.
Phillip looked over and leapt to his feet, startled.
"There, stop!"