Stone

Once upon a time,
There was a nice fellow walking down a narrow winding path at the break of dawn; searching.
A second man treading close behind with a wicked grinish snarl.
The nice young man slowly comes to a halt dead centre in the middle of the old dirt rode, earily kneeling down on a seemingly injured ankle.
The sound of a crunch heightens the unaware travalers  senses triggering a side unseen. In a quick instant, he looks up to stare at his new assailant. "Vlad is it not?" the young man asks.
The now more nervous then threating man answers with a shrug, "Names matter not, but the blood of the damned shall spill in your place".
With hasty content the hesitant figure attacks.

"Finally some peace and quiet" the young man whispers with bliss.
As he gets up and walks from a downed mutilated body he notices a slight glow from the dirt.
"There you are my sneaky little stone, ive found you at last; My power will ever be bathed in growth"
He hums to himself as he strolls on ahead.