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By Krysanna Virgo

Part 2

A group of voyagers suddenly find themselves in an untouched, unchartered and presumably uninhabited paradise.


Years passed quickly, but our routines were the same. Dense clouds of mist loomed overhead. Eliad’s black wavy hair was damp with dew. A light haze twirls from his thin and cracked lips.

His instructions to stay on the trail pierced the air. Meanwhile, my wondering eyes strayed and excitedly fixed their gaze on my very first hunting expedition


As it was extremely tranquil, I opted to stroll along. A delicate mist hovered and settled near frosty ferns at the base of the thicket. Lemon-green creeping plants climbed along sloping hills and slept comfortably, supporting small ferns that greet the sunlight.

Giant trees stood stately and towered above miniature nestlings and herbs that bowed and kissed the senses of the majestic trees. They stood firm with patterned and mossy barks as if proud to bear any weather.

As we ventured in search of food on the untouched island, I came across an uncustomary pathway. Curiosity lured me away from the trail. I soon found my steps trotting along wherever my curiosity took me. I noticed a dense forest with a strange track.

It was a sea of different hues of green. As I strolled, I stumbled on the loose stones of the disintegrated track and slipped on the dewy grass, leaving frosty grass crunched underfoot.

The sun had awakened, and I could feel the warm touch on my skin. The nature birds chirped, the trees danced, and the leaves clapped to rhythm prepared by the wind. Nearby, I could hear the water rushing swiftly but softly down the stream and over the rocks.


A gentle wind brushed my face leaving behind a trail of delightful and scented plants. Sulfur-yellow daisies, golden wine roses, and egg-plant purple iris competed; but the one that stood out to me was the iris with its sharp and flawless scent.


Without warning, a clap of thunder joined the deafening roar of a largely yellow and black fearsome, ravenous, mindless, man-eating machine; bringing my enchanting stroll to a screeching halt.

The Tale of the Zoanians: Team
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