ascotlanding
The tree withered in the field. Its branches curled inward, apples falling from it and dropping on the ground with sickening, wet plops. The trunk shrank, and the bark cracked. It seemed as if the entire tree would disappear inside itself.
There were three levels in the castle. The first was below ground, the second looked out onto the courtyard, and the third looked to the sea. That is where she spent her time, looking past the tracery and leaden panes, out at the wild grey sea beyond. The outlines of ships bobbed on white waves, waving to her with cream-colored sails.