Deep in the Draconi forest there is a cove. The cove has been sculpted by the gentle action of a wide waterfall over a steep granite outcrop. The water is carried here by a shallow stream that meanders through the forest from the west. There is a deep clear pool beneath the waterfall and a shallow recess behind it. The air here is sweet with pollen from the colourful balsam flowers that line the stream and a myriad of mosses, spike mosses, ferns and lichens which festoon tree trunks, branches and rocks.
If a weasel could think such thoughts, he would look in awe of his home, his little kingdom in the forest where he never needs to scamper far to find berries, snatch dragonflies in his teeth, or sleep in his secret spot behind the water curtain.
Above all it felt like a safe place, he felt ... protected. It had felt that way since he first found it, but today that was to change.