by Phillip Leon
Dampness. Darkness. Silence. Silence most, above anything else. The great tree rose above Leo, tall and strong, silence radiating from it. Towering above him as though threatening to squash him with its might. A long, broken branch leaned close to the ground. With a deep breath, Leo slowly climbed up the branch.
He grabbed a nearby branch and pulled himself up to a growth on the tree. Spotting a rope he had tied to another limb, he grabbed it and swung up to a higher place on the unbelievably tall tree.
“Huh? Leo, is that you? Oh, hi!” a small, strong voice said.
“Hey Rocko!” Leo hated to use his full name, Rockobockotolo.
“Wactha here for today, Leo?”
“Oh, just the view,” Leo said as he fingered the smooth, red amulet around his neck.
With a flutter of wings, Rocko landed on Leo’s shoulder. “Yeah, its pretty nice up here.”
Leo rubbed the hoktie’s tiny head as he purred softly. But he was interrupted as from behind him came a cry of “Leo!” and five small, extremely agile black shapes pounced on his head.
