The Snarling Hind who Guarded the Bridge

Hast thou seenest the snarling hind which protects that there bridge? It growls and hisses at any attempting passer, shaking and spitting and twitching until its eyes slowly squirm out of its ravenous eyes.

It allows not the entry of any mere friend nor foe - in fact, entry past this bridge is unauthorised. The hind has permitted not the entry of one friend nor one foe for an entire decade. Though it grows weak and weary it never ceases to protect what is located beyond the bridge, carved into a great wall of sapphires and other precious gemstones which resurface every night time, and gleam upon the touch of the very moon's beams.

The hind's body is covered in deep scars, scars etched into its skin from years of struggle in battle, yet it stands its ground, its big hazel eyes scanning the vicinity. It chants, "Noli Me Tangere," in a rare squeak, for it is indeed wild to hold, though it appears somewhat tame. What this magical hind protects is far from its own reach, for the hind is a figure of the protected's imagination, and it has broken free from the realm of the possible into the realm of reality to protect the sanctity from which it came. The constant silence that once twirled through the hind's realm like the peaceful flutter caused by butterfly winds had transformed into that of a giant's violent roar, shattering both the peace within the hind and the peace around it.

Virginia, the busty brown-haired maiden who once danced with straight shoulders now lay curled up beneath a tree that had branches decayed and covered by poisonous a moss. She layed down, her creamy white face turned to the tree's trunk, and has remained that way, motionless, yet sobbing silently, and at some times, wailing, for the entirety of that decade. Some days, her wailing is so loud that it is haunting. The villagers nearby become very uneasy, and as though the sky can hear her also, it begins to rain, at times thundering to cover the sound of her soul being ripped apart by her memories.

One night, Virginia's wailing was so loud that her voice alone was louder than the thunder. A villager's daughter's mirror had began to crackle from the corners, the cracks breaking through the glass towards the center at a speed faster than the spread of a flu epidemic. The little girl cried in vain as the shards fell from her mirror, landing on her face. The girl's face was scarred, and the villagers finally had an excuse to disturb the hind's keeping of its peace. Like they were hunting for a witch, they gathered their pitchforks and sticks lit aflame and matched to the bridge in unison.

The hind was unprepared, and lost its fight after the third villager. The rest of the male villagers then viciously stabbed at the hind's carcass until every drop of its blood had seeped out of its thin body. The male villagers then led the rest of the villagers across the bridge. When they got to the tree, they found no sign of Virginia. The tree was full of life, and it flourished, its bright green leaves dancing merrily in the wind. The villagers were confused. The knew not the location of Virginia, and they could not see the bridge, for it now also disappeared. The villagers were trapped in a realm of luscious fields of green, and the tree that appeared to resemble the breathing of a human.