Concealed by the camouflage of the trees,
She waits in the cold; beginning to freeze.
The wind whistles and blows,
As she tries to find the treasure that could be under her nose,
She hears the signal as the lonely bird crows.

But she is startled by an unexpected noise.
She slowly turns slowly keeping her poise.
She expects an attack, an enemy,
But only a girl standing there helplessly.
She cannot take her and risk her mission terribly.

She heads on her journey.
Past the pond and the bare birch tree.
A wall of ivy conceals her way in.
An old door that has been.
She enters to find the treasure within.

A maze of corridors confuses her mind,









A puzzle of chance and wit combined.
If she could find the right door,
She wouldn’t be doing this anymore.
She would no longer be the person to call for.

As she passes the right one,
She wonders how she is going to get this done.
She feels the heat coming from behind it.
This couldn’t be right and she could feel it.
When she pushed the door in, she saw a scene that wouldn’t fit.

A wave of heat slapped her in the face.
A strange landscape that was out of place.
A lava pit sat in the middle.
With a group of monks, not looking cheerful,
Watching a small girl in chains wriggle.

A sacrifice they were beginning.
A fight the girl was not winning.
A wave of adrenaline washed over her.
When she finished, it was just a blur.
The monks were no threat, like they were.

She had saved the day,
And the treasure she had stole away,
Because what she didn’t know,
The signal of the bird’s crow,
Signaled she had found the treasure a long time ago.