It hurt. As if someone had cut
away pieces of her body. Without her gnomes, her caretakers, her
guardians, she withered.
Dead and bleeding, mere ground
and dust.
They were of her, made of the
soil and life of the land.
Her soul went into them.
But they had been stolen from
her. Ripped from her womb and lured to the surface.
Now they ran in packs like savage
beasts, doing the bidding of the one who had cursed them.
Hunting and searching for a
prince to devour.
They would not stop until she,
Mother Earth, was tainted with his blood.
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