Written for the There and back Advent Challenge
Long ages have I stood here and much have I seen. Young and old have sought my shade. The birds have built in my branches and the badgers sheltered ‘neath my trunk. Grasses and ferns flourish at my feet.
Yet, what creature is this? The air shudders, heavy with menace. Who is this Black Rider? He carries no axe, so why do I fear such dread? The birds fall silent, fluttering away in fear. What manner of horse can carry such a one, neither living nor dead?
I feel my sap draining, my leaves wilting. Evil stalks abroad this day..