“Phil, you’re so full of crap it’s amazing you can even fly,” huffed Borachio, sitting himself down next to one of the trees leading into the forest, “there’s no way there are giant lions walking around between the trees.” “I’m telling you, I saw a giant lion walking through the forest just two days ago! It was three times as big as you! It could smoosh you into paste with one PAW,” the bright bird countered quickly, sitting atop the head of his skeptical comrade. The lion grunted at the thought. Like he was going to believe there were giants in the forest! All the fairy talk was so random. The only thing living in the forest were the groundlings, and they weren’t exactly to be feared.
And he was certain they wouldn’t be living in there if there was some kind of giant lion in there with them.
“If there’s a big lion in there, why didn’t anyone see it when we were looking for the lost children? Or why haven’t the groundlings said anything? They’ve lived in there for years!”
“They don’t WANT us to know they’re in there, those giants! They have magic! They do! We should go looking for them! Set a trap! That will prove it to you, you big lug! Then Philostrate will have the last laugh!”
Borachio shook his head, knocking the bird from his perch and sending him harmlessly plopping to the floor. “You… are crazy,” he informed the other, “and what kind of trap could we set, anyway?! I don’t think a pit would ever be deep enough for the fake beast you’re claiming is in there.” Still, though he sounded so annoyed, his eyes remained on the trees.
What mysteries really were lurking within the branches?