No more the open fallow field. Blue surveys the ploughed slopes where we'd filmed folk horrors this winter and we both realised that its farmed spring mantle prohibits any further entrance.
The clean straight edge of the turned earth draws a sharp line on our wanderings over the bleak season, its sable curd now protected by the hostile cracks of twelve bores.
So we are forced to the margins like halflings, padding through the stream-side scrub,
Where unexpectedly Blue finds an upturned bottle buried deep in the wooded soil like a glass boletus.
As the thought of freeing it flickered through my mind I recalled the ghostly tale by M.R.James, A Warning to the Curious and a frisson of fear charged up my spine.
I left the bottle where it was.
What message may have been inside do you think?