Podkin wearily trudged down the forest floor, glancing occasionally at the gaps between the gnarled, warped trees, checking for The Gorm. Paz and his little brother ambled behind, playing a pretend game but their voices soon cracked and their tone was desperate. After what seemed like a rabbit’s lifetime, they reached the dark waters of Grimheart River. Sure he was being watched he let out a low snarl to show he wasn’t messing around. Pook let a little wine of disgust at having to cross such a dirty river, but going on a wobbly bridge was the least of his worries at the moment… “How much longer!” Demanded Paz, “It’s almost 3 hours past Pook’s bedtime!” Podkin gave a low grunt obviously not in the mood to deal with his bossy sister. If they tried,  could hear the clanking of swords and the clunking of metal armour in the distance, The Gorm were close…