The tree trunk slants in the air, its crown submerged in the river, and with the lever effect, the roots rise high, intertwined like a spider web trapping soil. Alas, it can entrap soil but not water. The torrential rain washes, the red soil melts into red blood, trickling down along the roots.
The wood roots break.
The towering tree shakes, nearing its limit, and slowly falls into the Red River, drifting across the South Sea.
With the loss of its roots anchoring it, more red soil gets eroded and swept away, merging into the splashing crests.
The Red River is called the Red River because the soil on both banks is red, and the deeper you dig with a shovel, the redder it becomes, like human blood. This is the most widespread soil in the Southern Frontier, where the hot climate, humid air, and weathered rocks mix with rusty red iron, depositting into the earth.
