The Pomegranate Trees

"Well, I'll be darned. Looky what we have here."
"What'd you find, little man?"
"Don't you 'little man' me, Doalus. You aint more than one half-inch taller than me."
"Well, perhaps, but a half-inch is a mile when compared to you."

You open your eyes to see two lean and muscular, bare-chested men peering down at you.

"Well, hello, little missy. Didn't mean to wake you in such a rude way," says the taller of the two, with as charming a smile as has ever been seen. He crouches down and offers you a hand, which you use to sit up.

The world must be spinning, and fast, for you think you see two squat horns on each man's head. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you also notice the men's feet. Except they aren't feet. They are rough hooves and what you thought were fringed chaps are, in fact, tawny-furred goat legs. A look of pure, disgusted shock crosses your face.

"What the-" You try to stand, but fall back to your butt and try scooting hurriedly away instead.

"Hey, hey, hey, it's alright. No need to be frightened of us, missy," says the same, tall faun, "I'm Doalus, and this here is my brother Onus. We just wanted to see if you were alright." Onus waves shyly from behind his brother.

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