"Who's there?" He said, scrambling backwards. He tripped over his own feet and landed on his backside.
"Just me." The deep voice answered. Makos followed the sound high up into the top, sweeping, green branches of a large pine tree. There, peeking from under two boughs was a pair of big, yellow eyes. They were glowing from deep within the branches and about two feet apart, from what he could see.
Makos' jaw flapped open and closed. Nothing came out of his mouth, though.
Finally, he spoke, "W-who are you?"
The boughs lowered, concealing the eyes one at a time, and the voice replied, "Me? The name's Rory."
Makos was about to say something, but the voice cut him off. "Actually, I'm Ubert." The boughs lifted again and the yellow eyes stared down at him.
"What?" Makos asked. "Is it Rory or Ubert?"
"Rory." The voice paused. "Ubert." The boughs lowered again. A rumbling chuckle shook the whole tree.
Makos crossed his arms. "You're confusing." He stated.
The boughs lifted again and bent at angles to apear like angry eyebrows. "At least I'm not lost."
Makos frowned. "I'm not lost!" He exclaimed. "I'm just hiding."
"Oh." Rory-Ubert replied. "I suppose that means you're our guest, then."
"Our?" Makos said.
"My." The voice answered.
"Is there someone else here?" Makos asked.
"Just us."
Makos watched the yellow eyes look to the sides quickly before settling on him again. He wondered what exactly he was dealing with, so he asked. "What are you?"
"That's rude." The voice said. "He treats me like a monster. No he doesn't. He is just confused. He said so himself."
Makos saw the eyes cross while the right eyebrow bent into a scowl and the left curved in a worried expression. He almost laughed at the sight of it.
"Now he's mocking me!" Rory-Ubert said. "Calm down, he's just a kid. They don't get a sense of decency for a few years."
When Makos heard that he frowned even deeper, with angry eyebrows. "Hey, I didn't mean anything by it. I've just never seen anything like you before."
The tree shook to more chuckling, then leaned forward as if to get a closer look. "Yeah. I guess he is just a small brat still."
Makos grew even more frustrated. He didn't like it when Danos called him a kid. Hearing it from this strange tree wasn't consolation to him.
The tree bent down further. "Do you think he tastes better than normal?" The voice seemed to ask itself. "Maybe. You never know what an atittude like that will do to the flavor." Makos heard a loud sniffing noise and wind lifted his hair up.
Makos felt his blood go cold, and he crawled back a little further from the tree.
"Reminds me of that rotting goat carcass we found last October." Rory-Ubert said, leaning back a bit. "Yeah. I really enjoyed that one, too."
The tree leaned further in, this time. "I suppose a taste wouldn't hurt? Would it? Of course not. Hey kid," The tree called out, "Stick out your arm a bit, would you?"
The branches reached close enough to brush the top of his head. Panicking, Makos squeezed his eyes shut and swung his hands wildly in front of him.
"Yeah, like that. Now, hold 'em still."
Makos' eyes popped open. Why wasn't his power working? The tree should have been blown to pieces in an instant.
"Come on, play along." The tree said while both eyes stared at him intensely through the boughs.
In his terror, Makos noticed something. The eyes each belonged to a different face. Both faces had a huge eye socket planted right in the middle of a wrinkly forehead. Below that, mouths bore sharp fangs and tusks turning up on the left face and down on the right. Both were licking their tusks hungrily.
A drop of spittle stretched down and broke, landing on his hand. It smelled horrible.
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