He begins to walk up the hills that are  now lined with snow: the result of a cold winter. He has walked this path a million times- he was so confident he could do it in his sleep. It was always awake with birdsong, however today everything seemed different- the birds more quiet than usual, a shiver of fear in their song.

He took this as strange and his heart started to pump. He was now strangley hooked on finding the problem, a seemingly impossible thing for such a dull man. He reached the top of a steep hill, where the nature stopped- A thin black line peirced the horizon.

What- what is this!

He cocked his head and he gazed up before slowly, cautiously walking forward.

It was not black, bluck red and appeared to be a giant rope dangling from the sky. It had a red tassle, like a horces mane seperated by a golden bead.

He grabbed at it, and swung it around as if it was the string of a church-bell. He grabbed it again, stll cautious however.