Of all the places in the world, it seemed as if the forest was the only place that could remain completely undiscovered. You could say it’s all one big jumbled mess that Mother Nature forgot to organize. But the forest is its own place, and it’s set up in its own way. It knows what it’s doing, and it has perfect order. The forest is one big being, life pulsing within it.

Which is why it was completely unnerving to ‘the forest’ to have a four foot man with icicles in his hair stomping along and crushing everything with his insanely and unnaturally large feet. The poor undiscovered bugs writhed and cringed under his feet as they were sent to a harsh and painful death. Poor, poor, bugs.

You could say that this little man’s feet were as tough as rocks. They were so hard that as he walked over thorns he’d not feel a thing. This probably had something to do with how he used to ride down mountains on the bare soles of his feet. Yes, his species was an odd one, but it was what they did and they were proud of it.

And his cheeks were rosy and wrinkled; little round glasses sat on his nose. But don’t let that one sentence distract you, for upon his face was a smile turned upside down.

“This is ridiculous. We’ve been walking for hours! When are we going to be there? My feet hurt and I can’t see a thing. My glasses are fogging up. Can you slow down? Where are we? What—”

Suddenly, a girl with beautiful brown hair came appearing out of the trees, or so it seemed to the little man because he had been talking, not seeing.

“Kusty! Would you shut up!?”

Like Kusty, her cheeks were rosy, but probably from anger, and her eyes were narrowed. She didn’t look the least bit amused. “I swear, Kusty, we’ve been traveling for an hour and no more. It won’t be much longer, can’t you just be patient? You’re whining every second! And its practically impossible for your feet to hurt, they’re like rock!”

Kusty stopped dead in his tracks and looked up at the girl thoughtfully. “I didn’t realize that I’d been talking so much. I’ll be quiet, Aisly, I really will!”

Aisly rolled her eyes sarcastically and playfully. “Okay, okay. Let’s get a move on, shall we?” And she disappeared back into the trees, Kusty following close behind her. She whistled softly to herself and twirled an object that was composed of two golden bars to form an x-shape. It whistled through the air, much like the pitch of Aisly herself, and created a nice little chorus for the two of them to enjoy.

“Aisly, hold on a minute,” Kusty interrupted, holding his finger up in the air. Aisly immediately stopped the ‘chorus’ and turned to look at Kusty.

“What is it?” she asked in curiosity.

Kusty emphasized that he was holding his finger in the air, motioning for her to be quiet. His ears were picking up an unnatural rustling in the leaves, as well as something that he was almost one hundred percent certain was a sword being pulled out of its sheath. “This way,” he whispered.

The little man began to creep along as quietly as a mouse, careful to not make a sound on the abundant supply of dead leaves on the forest floor. He carried on like this for over a minute with Aisly crouched down and following close behind him, as she grew more impatient by the second.

“There!” he shout-whispered, pointing towards a very thick spot in the trees. Aisly rolled her eyes, but Kusty persisted. He pointed towards one of the thinner spots and made her watch it—she saw movement. They looked at each other and nodded. Kusty crept to right behind the thin spot, looking back at Aisly, and waited for her ‘okay to go’ signal. She gave him thumbs up.

So, Kusty leapt out of the bush with a fierce battle cry tumbling out of his mouth and pummeled himself right into the face of the man with the sword, bringing him straight to the ground.

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[These Guys Will Show You Inescapable Doom]

"Maybe it's the sum of a million coincidences we don't quite control that brings us to a particular place
at a particular time, or maybe it's the choices we make, the actions we take. If there's one thing I've learned in 85 years, it's
that what we want doesn't always matter. But then again, sometimes it's all that does." - Mick St. John