Prince Tevin melted at the sight.
Having struggled to climb the mountain to escape the mercenaries and their dogs below, the fulsome berry patch was the hope he desperately needed.
He devoured the fruits, his chaffed palms absorbing the berry extracts.
“Juicy!” he exclaimed.
Prince Tevin was relieved. He could feel his body reacting to their nourishment.
His rest vanished with the barking. The dogs were ascending the rocks.
Torn from the tranquility, Prince Tevin leaped, soaring unscathed away from the viscous bites below.
The berries had a magical quality to them.
Prince Tevin had grown wings. He was safe.