Edging towards the portal (the dump), Daisy heard the galloping of hooves and the firing of pistols. It was them, Lord Adil’s huntsmen. Dragging itself sluggishly, the tired phoenix licked its wounded wing, moaned moodily and kept on sliding towards ‘Ye Olde Dump’.
Rusty, old gates groaned with slight stains of red paint starting to peel, looking like it was going to collapse. Daisy, whose lungs were filled with too much air, focused on the things beyond the gate. Behind the bars, a blinding light beamed through the piles of rubbish, like a glowing galaxy, spinning like a washing machine. Then it all got dark; the rubble disintegrated into a billion fluttering butterflies; the world stretched into a new fantasy, pulling everything into the junkyard: trees; glittering stars; everything…
Rusty, old gates groaned with slight stains of red paint starting to peel, looking like it was going to collapse. Daisy, whose lungs were filled with too much air, focused on the things beyond the gate. Behind the bars, a blinding light beamed through the piles of rubbish, like a glowing galaxy, spinning like a washing machine. Then it all got dark; the rubble disintegrated into a billion fluttering butterflies; the world stretched into a new fantasy, pulling everything into the junkyard: trees; glittering stars; everything…
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