Ice-and-fire-pheonix

The Once-ler led his gray-blue eyes to the window again. To the world that he created. Now dark, smoggy, and barren, the Truffula Valley was home to only him. The young man hoisted himself out of his chair with one faded green glove and stalked to the window, blinking sleepily. His feet crunched over numerous pieces of mint-coloured paper, but the Once-ler ignored them. The money meant nothing- they really were just bits of wasted paper. Just trees cut into neat, dyed rectangles. The billionare paused in front of one partiularily large pile. "Stupid stuff," he murmed angrily, glaring at the bills. He kicked it purposely as he crept past.