A loud THUMP echoed from the old oak tree. Ayaan paused, then grabbed a low branch and began to climb.
High in the branches, two heroes were trapped. Shimmering purple vines wrapped around them, humming a sad, low tune.
Ayaan reached out his hand toward the pulsing vines. They throbbed gently, like a heartbeat waiting to be freed.
He dashed home and returned with his red safety scissors. The blades felt heavy as he snipped at a vine.
The vine giggled and grew back thicker, wrapping tighter. Ayaan's lips trembled. His scissors were useless against the magic.
Ayaan lowered the scissors and sat on the grass. "Why did the spider lose his web?" he asked softly.
The humming stopped. One vine curled into a wobbly heart. "That's a good one, kid," said the red-clad hero.
The vines released the heroes and swung toward the community garden. A storm drain overflowed, and a tiny kitten floated nearby.
Ayaan grabbed a long branch and stretched it toward the kitten. It leaped onto the wood, safe at last.
The dark hero pressed a smooth black stone into Ayaan's hand. He pocketed his gifts and walked home, dreaming.
