On a chilly October morning, a forest ranger tramped through the mist-wreathed Fairy Woods. The air smelled like damp dirt tangled with pine needles, and the wind whispered through the tree. Suddenly, a low rumble rolled in—loud, like a big truck driving over rocks.
He followed the noise, his shoes crunching leaves that crinkled like crisp paper. Poof! When he peeked through a wall of wiggle ferns, his eyes went wide. A wonderland spread out before him, glowing like a sunny summer day. There was a lake of golden honey and a waterfall that roared like a playful giant laughing. A rainbow curved over the lake, and weird plants grew everywhere. Some had leaves like little bowls, other bloomed flowers that sparkled like stars. Fluffy animals with fur as colorful as lollipops hopped between the bushes.
Then a shout cut through the air “Who is that? Get out—kill him!” A group of Hobbits (their feet as big as dinner plates) grabbed acorn arrows—their tips sharp as thorns— and aimed. The ranger’s heart banged like a drum. He froze, not knowing what to do but wait.