Haunted Wood All eyes were upon the Taggerung

The farthing wood was far behind him and good riddance, at that. Never before had he been accosted by such scoundrels. The badgers were foul, the lot of them. They'd kicked dirt at him one too many times, sullied the good nature of their kind. Tagg was certain never to forget such travesty. 

Ah but the new wood was splendid in its own right. The scent of badger far behind, the Taggerung could only bask in the warm glow of an evening sun that had draped like a heavy blanket across the trees. 

My, what a glorious golden glow, the Taggerung mused softly, pausing at the lip of a fallen log.