DEEP FOREST - PART 1
While stories take a break for the Summer, I'll still be sharing short fiction - mostly introductory segments from projects I'm rewriting, every other week until August. This week, enjoy the first part of Deep Forest.
Mother had told her never to leave the meadows.
“The meadows are safe, Rabbit,” Mother had told her over and over again. “And you are small, you would not last in the Deep Forest.”
Well Rabbit was fed up of the meadows. There was nothing but grass and stupid prissy flowers as far as the eye could see. She looked down to the coast, where the trees grew dense and tall, rising and falling like waves as the wind bent and bowed their tops.
There were no oceans. Nobody could recall a time now when the endless depths had been filled with undrinkable water. Now Rabbit wanted to explore them, to find fossil remains of the long-dead legless creatures which had once drifted where trees were now halfway-tall. So she packed up a week's worth of food into her backpack and set a dagger at her hip and ran off, when Mother's back was turned, into the Deep Forest.
There was a path for the first day, which went steadily down and to the left, so Rabbit slept in a clearing on the first night and decided down-and-to-the-left was the way to go. Only, when she awoke in the early hours the next day, she was not alone.
A pair of mismatched eyes watched her from beyond the clearing.
Rabbit stood slowly, drawing her dagger.
“Who are you?” she asked. The eyes remained steady, examining her.
“They call me Lone Wolf,” the voice of the eyes said. “I used to have a pack, to run with them, but I became too strong and King Deer overthrew me, said there would be no more packs unless they followed him. Now he controls all the wolves, save for a few of us.”
Lone Wolf stepped into the clearing; in the dim light Rabbit could make out his scarred, battle-worn features, but more prominently the axe he held lazily in one hand, the heavy head like a pendulum inches above the earth.
“Already the trees enclose you, meadow-girl,” Lone Wolf said. “But if you need a guide I am willing to lead you safely through these forests and help you gather food. It is a long journey to the Deep Forest.”
“You mean this isn't Deep Forest?” Rabbit asked, her eyes darting around. No other wolves? Really?
Lone Wolf chuckled.
“My dear,” he said, “This is barely the shallows. We have days of walking ahead of us. Come; you can tell me your story as we walk.”
And so Rabbit allowed the man to lead her deeper into the forest. This time they went down and to the right. It was a steeper route, with many jumps and climbs, and soon Rabbit was tired. So Wolf crouched down and she climbed onto his back and with a rush of air, the trees were soaring past all around them. Such speed!
“You were never going this fast before!” Rabbit exclaimed. Wolf grinned.
“I had to look after you!” he called back.
It was nearing the end of the second day when they encountered Raven. The trees obscured all but the strongest light now, and yet somehow the orange glow of the setting sun managed to make its way down to the forest floor. It got in Wolf's eyes and he had to slow down for fear of hitting a tree. That was when he heard the wheeling laughter from up above.
“Hahaha, silly dog!” a voice cried. “You know better than to trespass in Raven's realm!”
Wolf stopped by a tree and let Rabbit down.
“Stay here,” he ordered, and ran off without waiting for a reply. Rabbit could see him, stalking the shadows, and she took out her dagger again, her eyes darting about her as she looked for the voice in the trees.
And then he was in front of her, Raven the silent. His dour face did not seem to belong to the happy voice which had left it earlier; the hook nose was pointed down to give the sharp, bottomless eyes a closer look at her, and the mouth look disapproving as the old man said, “hmph! Merely a trifle, an aperitif!” Nonetheless, he stood back and raised his sword.
Rabbit ducked under his arm, slicing at his elegant coat as she ran, crying “Wolf, Wolf! He's here, oh! He's here!” And then Raven was leaping up into the trees again with his long legs, and Wolf was hurrying over, axe raised.
“Where has he gone?” Wolf cried, looking around.
“I don't know!” Rabbit replied frantically, desperately willing her hands to stop shaking, to no avail.
“He's around here somewhere!” Wolf snarled.
And then Rabbit screamed as Raven descended in front of her, sword out behind him. He swung up and Rabbit parried clumsily, stuck between Raven's mad swings and Wolf's back. With his third quick swing Raven disarmed Rabbit and drew back to attack again, but Wolf had already turned and was putting a protective arm in front of the girl. He stepped forward, axe swinging from behind his back in a long arc which seemed as though it would take too long to hit. It did; Raven's sword pierced his side before the axe reached its peak, and Raven was making to move away. But now the sword was lodged, and Wolf moved with it, sawing into his own flesh to keep with the thin man. The axe swung down and Raven dived aside, his sword still in Wolf's abdomen.
The big man pulled the blade from his stomach, gripping the handle in his free hand, and Raven backed himself against a tree.
“Good show,” he said quietly, his eyes never leaving the panting Wolf. “May I have my sword back now?”
“We have free passage,” Wolf remarked, stepping closer. “We have free passage or I kill you. I have done nothing to you, why do you attack me?”
“You have done nothing?” Raven leapt up, wildly gesticulating in his anger. “Your wolves tear down my brethren daily; any who get too close to Deep Forest are slaughtered mercilessly! I have seen family become nothing more than a hail of feathers, brought to bear by the armies of the King Deer!”
“I have no allegiance to King Deer,” Wolf replied levelly. “He stole my pack, and every other pack in the forest, and now he roams around with his army, tearing down trees and building himself a fortress!” Raven stepped back as though struck. His hand was on his heart and his head bowed. He knelt before Wolf.
“You have my apologies,” he said. “I am your humble servant from this day, until King Deer is punished for his crimes.”
“Pardon me,” Rabbit interrupted, “but who is King Deer?”
“King Deer,” Raven said, “is the foremost authority in Deep Forest. He rules the woods with an iron fist; any who stand in the way are cast aside or trodden into dirt. He roams the forest, day and night, never stopping to rest or eat, patrolling until his fortress is built.”
“What happens when his fortress is built?” Rabbit asked nervously.
“He solidifies control of the Deep Forest,” Wolf said. “And he sends his armies out to control all the forests. Perhaps even beyond.”
Rabbit thought of Mother, living so far away in the meadow. What would happen to her if King Deer's wolves came out of the forest and started attacking the meadow people? Would she be safe? She was strong, but Wolf seemed strong and if a whole army of people like Wolf came out of the forest, Rabbit didn't think anyone would survive.
She looked at her dagger. There was no blood on it; she hadn't even managed to slice Raven's coat.
Wolf and Raven were arguing about something to do with the forest now.
“Hey,” Rabbit said. They turned.
“Do you two think you could teach me how to fight?” she asked. They looked at each other.
“We'll start tomorrow,” Raven said eventually.
“But we'll have to do it on the move,” Wolf said. “There is little food for the journey, and little left to scavenge, so we may not have much to eat if the days continue on like this.”
And so it was agreed; Rabbit would be taught to fight.
In the middle of the third day, it began to rain. Wolf began slipping as the dirt turned to mud and his progress was slowed, and though Raven walked easily on the branches above, he was a little unsteady on the wet bark. Only Rabbit walked very easily, her eyes picking out the stones and roots which she hopped along, avoiding the worst of the mudslides.
Suddenly, she stopped.
“Do you hear that?” she asked. The others halted, pricking their ears and cocking their heads to catch any sound they might hear.
“I don't hear anything,” whispered Wolf, digging mud from his ear with his little finger. He walked forwards, half-drowned in mud, strong legs striding through it with difficulty.
“Stop,” Rabbit said quietly. “There it is again. Less a sound, more a... a feeling. Something's nearby, something big.”
“Could be anything,” Raven said. He looked down cautiously, shuddering at the thought of his coat being drenched with mud. How uncouth. He leapt from branch to branch carelessly.
“Careful,” Wolf warned. “Something is here.” He gritted his teeth and pushed on, crawling to where the mud was shallower and he could get onto dryish ground. He sat, clutching his side. Rabbit crouched down next to him.
“That wound,” she said. “It's slowing you down. Is there anything you can do about it?”
“Not here,” Wolf said. “We must get through this mud before we can see Master Hog. He knows about wounds of all sorts, he'll have the herbs to sort me out.” He got up steadily and carried on, Rabbit following behind him as they threaded their way through the trees, slipping through the mud. Raven didn't seem to notice Rabbit stopping to help Wolf up whenever he slipped from then on.
When they made camp that night, Rabbit hung a hammock between two trees and insisted Wolf sleep in it.
“I'll be fine in the mud,” she said. “I've slept in worse before, I'm sure. And you need to keep that injury as clean as possible.”
“Shhh!” Wolf hissed. “Nobody needs to know about the injury.”
“There's only the three of us here,” Rabbit said, but she saw the pointed way he was looking at Raven as she said it. She frowned.
“Get in the hammock,” she said. “You're sleeping there tonight. I find you out of it, I'll give you a wound to worry about.”
As Wolf settled in, she walked over to Raven, who was combing his long black hair, trussing it up in the branches of the tree above so it didn't get muddy. She poked him in the chest and he stumbled, pulling a knot in his hair painfully.
“Oww!” he cried. “Why did you do that?”
“That wound you gave Wolf,” Rabbit hissed. “It's hurting him badly. I don't know if he's going to make it through the night.” Raven peered over at Wolf, hunched down in the hammock.
“He'll make it three days before it kills him,” Raven said. “That's walking, of course. Master Hog wanders, he knows where the trouble is. I imagine we'll see him in a day or two if we stay here.”
“And you're sure Wolf is going to be okay?” Rabbit asked. Raven nodded.
“I've killed wolves with that blade before,” he said. “It takes a lot more than that to bring down a wolf. I imagine he'd probably last all week before that thing bled out or got so infected he couldn't walk. But Master Hog won't let that happen, you watch.”
The mud was not comfortable and the rain kept Rabbit awake until she surreptitiously crept under the hammock and lay on the wet earth there instead. The sound of the rain was comforting, at least; she was asleep a little later, and woke up feeling less awful than she expected, although somewhat caked in mud.
Wolf was already gone. He had disappeared, so Raven said, to find a watering hole where he could wash the mud from his body.
“How long has he been gone?” Rabbit asked. Raven shrugged.
“He left with the sunrise,” he said. “Just a few hours.”
Rabbit waited patiently for another hour before walking off in search of Wolf. She found tracks in the mud nearby; following them, she found herself at a cliff edge. This seemed to be a place Wolf knew well; he had gone fast, confidently, skirting the edge of the cliff for a while.
After a few minutes, she heard roaring water in the distance. It was in the direction of the footprints; making sure she still followed them, she headed for the source of the sound.
It was a waterfall, an enormous waterfall. It rose up higher than the cliff she had been standing on, pouring gallons of water into the abyss below. She was on a cliff about a third of the height of the falls, looking down into the basin where a lake of water pooled. Down there, she could see Wolf, surrounded by the mud as it drifted from his body, brown tinged with red, and he was staring up at something in the trees.
That something was a woman.
She was huge, taller than anyone Rabbit had ever seen. Even old man Ox was only seven feet tall; this woman was probably over ten feet tall, hanging effortlessly from one of the thick branches of the tree which led out over the lake a little – Wolf was keeping to the centre, but Rabbit could tell he was tiring. His axe was resting against the tree and his shirt, clean and free of mud, was lying on the shore nearby, drying in the sun. Rabbit saw the huge woman raise a long, ape-like arm, saw the clawed hands on the end ready to swipe at Wolf.
She took two steps back, then ran and leapt.