Greetings, dear Hive friends. I attend the Hispaliterario Challenge 16, which has been created and convened by @Hispapro to celebrate World Squirrel Day, which is celebrated on January 21, with the strong support of @jesuspsoto, @es-literatos, @writingclub, @celfmagazine and @ecency for continuing to get #hive moving.

Here is the call.

AlanFrijns, en Pixabay

The day is perfect. Today is the 12th of spring May and Don Borrico Rucio Platero Alcanforado and Doña Petigrís Preciosa Ahorquillada De Las Ramas y Buhardillas are getting married under the sacred shade of the thousand-year-old Roble Copaalta Raíz y Brazos Abiertos planted in the center of the forest.

The Lord Priest Sol Mayor Domo Del Orbe has arrived today with his golden scepter more resplendent than ever. He is here, as always, so punctual, from the first moment of dawn dressed in his tangerine-colored frock coat, wearing an amber bow tie over the collar of his shirt, with gloves so white and immaculate that the clouds radiate with brilliance, and he has prepared, smiling, to bless the union of the bride and groom with their luminous expressions.

The whole forest smells of romance. The little nightingales have done their job as cocktail shakers, extracting the delicious and fragrant chicha from the flowers, since that will be the liquor with which the newlyweds, the godmother, the godfather and all the distinguished guests will toast.

The godparents are Miss Garza Cristalina Seda from Distant Mats and the distinguished poet Perico Mancuerda Güigüe Constante, the pages being Miss Ratoncita Buenacera from Los Largos Cortijos and the young Rodentor Veloz Refilón D'Las Queseras. Thus, everything is ready at the altar when suddenly a zaperoco is heard coming from the sides of the river.

The Avid Orribilis Hyperbolic Trolls arrive on some noisy hulks dispersing so much filthy and sticky smoke that they stain the stones and even the dust in the environment with grease. The terrifying noise of the machines makes the birds fly disoriented, unable to understand what is happening in the foliage where they have lived in peace for more than a thousand years.

Without any regard for the ceremony that takes place in the grove, the Avid Orríbilis Hyperbolic Trolls take out knives and forks, nail clippers and eyebrow tweezers to start cutting down trees left and right. They urinate on the ground. They scratch their green, furry, bulging bellies. They scream monstrosities. But Trolls have no fucking idea what a squirrel in love means.

Petigrís Preciosa Ahorquillada De Las Ramas y Buhardillas, seeing the scoundrels with the intention of ruining the green thicket, asks the priest for a taima who stops the sacrament. She takes an immense acorn from the Copa Alta Raíz y Brazos Abiertos Oak and goes firmly, calmly and confidently to where the very anthropomorphic people are throwing a tantrum.

When she arrives in front of them she stares into their dark eyes and shows them her teeth. She shows them her great steel pincers, her sharp, resistant, ferocious blades with a single bite, Ñúúúnnn!!!, he smashes that poor acorn to pieces, which explodes and disintegrates in the air. ─Let's go, then, like we're getting out of here, Hyperbolic Trolecitos! But now, what for later it's too late! ─she tells them, gnashing her canines hard─.

After the Avid Orribilis Hyperbolic Trolls flee in fear, the bride and groom say Yes! and the wedding revelry begins. All attendees have a great time, sing, play hide and seek with the fairies in the grove. Meanwhile, Doña Petigrís Preciosa Ahorquillada De Las Ramas y Atticas gives pecks in the bemba to hers, Don Borrico Rucio Platero Alcanforado. In her gaze, love dances joropo escobillao today, spring May 12. The day is perfect. The night too. Under the magical influence of Luna Prodigio de las Caricias de Miel they promise each other happiness in the forest forever.

_{Traducción: Google Traductor}

Invito a
@nancybriti1, @charjaim y @devania