She loved as a druid, communing with the souls of trees. Bloodwood was her penultimate rush, hard as rock maple, dense as rosewood, but malleable as m...hogany, it was toxic. Cutting or sanding it required gloves and masks, for opening its beauty required seduction. It fought back fiercely if you forced its timbers apart and invaded its core. Sanguine curlings the same color as her hair piled around her hands as she ripped into it, and made the wood of Blood yield. She unconsciously lifted one. "Yeah." I replied."Well, good luck."I knew that I was going to need luck... Sheesh! Don't rub it in, Dad!"Thanks, dad" I said as I got up, slung my backpack over my shoulder and headed for the door.I opened the door and stepped out into the bright, crisp Iowa morning. I closed the door behind me and started walking the all too familiar route to my personal hell that is called school.I met up with Dave along the way. He lives a few blocks away from me and we would often walk with each other,. More

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