Ilya Blokh

Sean King

Mel S

Esseta O

Michael Ceraso

English

The moon shine brightly in the sky as they crawled through the forest.

Of course the moon was full on the night they needed to be stealthy. They stayed low, went slow, and were as quiet as possible. Quieter than a mouse, quieter than the wind. A bat would have had a hard time hearing them. By 3am, they had traveled 3 kilometers.

By 5am, they had only traveled 2km. They had taken the wrong turn and gone a kilometer in the wrong direction. The sun was coming up by now and the squad realized that their stealth mission was quickly falling apart.

“We need to regroup,” whispered the leader. She pointed to a knothole in a tree from a particularly dense forest and motioned for the rest of the crew to follow. They crept along, not even daring to breathe, until they heard a twig snap.

Everyone darted their eyes towards the sound - and then, they dared to breathe a sigh of relief. Some smiled. Some laughed. “Gandalf!” They cried. “Yes, my friends, it’s me, Gandalf the White. Let us go.” With that, they boarded a flock of hawks and flew home for dinner.

Ilya Blokh
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