November 24th, 2008
That was that, thought the minotaur. The witch had hardly even put up a fight—she just screamed something at him and vaporized. But now there was the sturdy door standing between him and his ring, his precious nose ring.
He wanted nothing more than to get it back. And to make matters worse, that child probably had no idea what she was holding. He would definitely get it back, and even that door couldn’t keep him from it.
He looked around the stairwell and realized there was hardly anything to use. He’d just have to use his head this time, and he hated that more than anything else. It always hurt.
He paused, took a deep breath, and focused. He could do this, he had to do this. He took a couple steps back, surveyed the scene, and then bent down and charged. The first impact seemed to do nothing at all, but he wasn’t easily dissuaded. He backed up even farther, lowered his head, and charged with all his strength. This time the door splintered everywhere.
The minotaur shook his head to clear his vision, and saw his curse, there on the girl’s arm: the ring.
He ran at the two cowering figures, lifted one with each arm and raced out of the witch’s house, out into the light where he could figure out how to get it back.
Your Reply...