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"What?" Crafter asks.

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"Well, maybe it's not that no one has seen the creeper king," I say. "Maybe it's that no one has seen him and survived to tell the tale."
"There you go with your conspiracies again," Hunter says, rolling her eyes and smiling.
I return the smile, but, inside, I was worried. I thought:
There is something going on here and I don't like it. I don't like it at all.
“You foolish fools.” White Chuckles. “The Creeper King knew what was coming. But here’s your problem, you don’t know much about the mob itself, do you?”
Another creeper hissed as it stepped out from behind an oak tree. I was ready this time. Kicking my horse forward, I turn in my saddle and fire at the green monster with my enchanted bow. The arrow strikes its shoulder, extinguishing the ignition process. The inner glow of the creeper fades, its angry eyes glaring at me.
"CREEPER!" I yell as I draw another arrow and fire.
“Let me explain.” White runs next to Silver. “Creepers are not true animals. Think of them as half breeds. They’re more of a moss monster, if you think about it. They are like bees, ver denfenive. If even slightly agitated, a spark ignights and boom, a creater is formed.”
“They seems to have grown in intelligence...”
"I know!" I say, "But there is a fight going on here!"
Rather than charging straight ahead, everyone splits into two groups, some going to the left while the others go to the right. The riders gallop in wide arcs, flanking any creepers that might be waiting ahead. So far, this was the third creeper attack, and both of the previous times, there had been a small group of monsters ahead, lying in wait.
As we move in large, curving arcs, Herder's wolves charge forward, barking and growling. With the creepers focused on the sound of the wolves, their proud barks would announce when monsters were near. With their furry sentries, no more creepers would be able to get close to us.
I decided to take a few fires at some who got too close for comfort.
I knew there was a cold taiga biome off to the left, but the grasslands continued to stretch out in front of them and off to their right. As they climbed the hill, one of the wolves gave off an angry growl, then a sorrowful howl, as if it were watching one of its companions suffering in agony. Instantly, I drew my diamond and iron swords, ready for battle.
Glancing about, I saw my companions also preparing for combat. But before we could discuss a strategy, Butch charged forward on his black mount, galloping up the hill, eager for a fight. It seemed like he always had to be the first to reach the monsters; his blade always had to draw the first of the attacker's HP. It was as if the NPC had decided that he was solely responsible for everyone's safety...which was ridiculous.
Urging my horse forward, I followed Butch up the hill, with Hunter right behind us. When I reached the top, I readied my swords---but there were no monsters. In fact, the we were completely alone on the plain. I see White stand staring straight ahead, her fur bristling as she glares at the horizon with angry red eyes. A column of smoke was rising up into the air, likely from the Village we'd been riding toward.
"What is it?" I ask.
"Fire," Butch replies.
"Is it the Village?" Crafter asks when he reaches the top of the rise.
"Probably," Butch replies.
A glow lit the horizon where the tendrils of smoke climbed into the air.
"You think that glow is the fire?" Stitcher asks.
"Maybe," Crafter says. "You can see smoke rising up; something is definitely going on there."
"Why would the village be on fire?" Stitcher wonders.
Suddenly, another wolf barks, and then lets out an angry howl, to the left. Turning, I find another of the wolves staring out into the distance, toward the cold taiga, its fur bristling and tail sticking straight out.