DEEP FOREST - PART 2
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. Deep Forest continues this week, as we introduce two more members of the party...
Rabbit was farther away from the water's edge than she thought, but that didn't matter to her and she pelted down like a bullet, arms at her sides. She raised them not a moment too late – the claw struck air where Wolf's head would have been had she not collided with him and forced him under water.
They came up several feet away, near the cliff Rabbit had jumped from. Wolf coughed up water from his lungs and took several ragged breaths before staring angrily at her.
“Why did you do that?” he yelled. “You could've been killed!”
“You would've been killed!” Rabbit snapped. “And you promised me you'd teach me how to fight, so you're not allowed to die!”
“I can take her,” Wolf snarled. “Leave her to me, I'll show you how to fight!”
“Why are you fighting?” Rabbit asked angrily. She turned to look at the woman, who was on the ground now, her knuckles dragging along the floor as she thudded ponderously towards them. Rabbit dragged Wolf ashore and approached her.
“Hey,” she said. “What's your name?” The woman stopped, brushing her matted blonde hair from her eyes with a claw.
“Hey,” she said uncertainly, raising a claw defensively. “They call me Big Sloth. I live in the trees around this lake.” Rabbit looked back at Wolf, who lay gasping at the lake's edge. She could see the wound clearly, along his abdomen, a big jagged gash in his side.
“Why are you hurting my friend?” she asked Sloth.
“He's muddying my water,” Sloth replied. “I drink from that.”
“I can give you water for today,” Rabbit said. “If you let me go back and get my pack. Will that suit you? By tomorrow the mud will wash away, right?” Sloth thought for a while.
“Deal,” she rumbled eventually. “But I keep him until you bring the water.”
When she returned half an hour later, she had her bag on her back and Raven in tow. Sloth growled.
“Who is this?” she demanded. “Why have you brought him here? I knew it! This was a trap from the start!”
“Wait!” Rabbit cried. “It's not a trap. He's our companion, he travels with us.”
“I heard Wolf was in trouble,” Raven said, dropping lightly from the trees. “I came along hoping I could help. Please, let my friend go.” Sloth backed away, clutching Wolf under her arm. He groaned a little as she moved, Rabbit could see the strain on his face as he fought through the pain.
“Hey!” she called, reaching into her pack. Sloth turned.
Something arced through the air and landed at her feet.
“We had a deal,” Rabbit said. “Let him go.”
Sloth looked down at the water bottle. For them it was enough for a day, perhaps. For her, it would last all week. And yet...
And yet the tall man still had a hand on his sword. And the girl's hand was at her side, resting right next to the dagger she carried. Sloth had no weapons but her claws, and this man – this Wolf – had an axe too. She clung tighter to him and he groaned and grimaced.
Reluctantly, she relaxed her grip.
Wolf slumped to the floor and Raven rushed forward, casting the sword aside to lift his friend. With his help Wolf was able to rise onto his knees, but could go no further; Sloth could see them struggling.
She picked up the water bottle, then put her free hand under Wolf's abdomen. He paled as she lifted him to his feet and Rabbit sprinted to catch him as he began to topple forwards, even with Raven's support.
“Your friend,” Sloth asked Rabbit. “Will he be okay?”
“He should be,” Rabbit said with a smile. “We need to wait for Master Hog to come by and help him. Thank you for being so understanding.”
“You are waiting for Master Hog?” Sloth asked.
“We are,” Raven said. “Why do you ask?”
“He was here not half a day ago,” Sloth explained. “Said he was heading South-west to try and reason with King Deer. If you hurry, you can catch up to him.”
“Thank you, Miss Sloth,” Rabbit said. “We'll head on our way.”
“No,” Wolf managed. Rabbit looked down at him.
“Why not?” she asked. “He was here not long ago, we can get to him.”
“You misunderstand,” Wolf said. He removed their arms and fell to the ground, kneeling in the mud.
“Raven,” he said. “That wound you gave me was worse than you thought, and it is not the only one I am battling.”
“What do you mean?” Raven asked.
“I mean I am close to death. I can barely move.”
“What? How?” Exclaimed Rabbit. “You were fine when I met you!”
Raven took up his sword and pointed it at Sloth.
“Was it this creature who slew you?” he asked indignantly. “Has she crushed you? Caused you pain?”
“Not her!” Wolf cried. “Lose the sword Raven, the less hostility in the air the better.” Reluctantly, Raven lowered the sword.
“Master Hog always takes the roads,” Sloth said.
“Good,” Rabbit said, dropping her backpack. “If he's a half-day away I can catch up to him by nightfall. I'll be back tomorrow, keep Wolf-”
“No,” Wolf said. “You are not trained, and even the roads around here are dangerous. Too dangerous for a meadow-girl armed with nothing but a dagger. Raven should go, he can fight, and he has the cover of the treetops and shadows.”
“That is where I have a problem, I confess,” Raven said sheepishly. “I do not travel far from my nesting site; truth be told, this is the farthest I have gone in a long while. The trees here are unfamiliar, and I do not know the paths at all.”
“That leaves only me,” said Wolf, getting to his feet slowly. His hand was covering most of the wound but even so, blood flowed around it, coating his fingers and running down his arm. It bubbled up in his mouth.
“If I can live for... an hour,” he said, “I can get there...”
A claw pushed him down. Sloth looked at Rabbit.
“I know these woods and these roads well,” she said. “I may be slow on land, but I am fast through the trees, and strong. I know which road Master Hog has taken; I can cut him off and bring him back fast. Stay here if you wish, but light no fires. The rats still swarm around here, and their numbers grow when they know I am gone.”
“Rats?” Rabbit asked.
“Little folk,” Raven said. “Nasty people. Gather in groups, slice at your legs, nibble your flesh. They'll eat you alive, if you give them the chance.”
“Keep cold,” Sloth warned. “They won't be able to find you.”
And with that, Sloth leapt. It was an enormous leap, which propelled her high above the low trees and into the branches of the tall Redwoods which stood many hundreds of metres away. And then she was gone, swinging through the trees.
Night came quickly. The three of them slept – or rather, Rabbit and Raven slept, huddled close to Wolf as he lay unconscious – the wet mud doing nothing to help their mood. Raven was twitchy and constantly kicking in his sleep, and Rabbit shivered and slept fitfully, waking irregularly to find herself, still lying in mud, with no sound of rats around.
“That's it,” Raven muttered. “I'm lighting a fire. It'll keep us warm, and I can deal with a few rats anyway.”
“Raven,” Rabbit cautioned, “we should pay attention to what sloth said. She knows this area.”
“Pah!” Raven spat, standing and gathering some sticks. His keen eyes caught sight of a little person scurrying around in the dark, and he kicked it far away with a squeak. When he was finished he squatted a little way away from where Wolf and Rabbit lay and fussed the kindling into a proper shape, before striking a flint and setting a spark to the wood. The clearing lit up.
And there, all around them, were hundreds of shadowy shapes. They had sharp, overhanging teeth and tiny slit-eyes which watched the trio with interest.
Raven stood slowly, drawing his sword.
“That,” he whispered, “is a lot more rats than I expected.”
“What do we do?” Rabbit asked. Raven raised his sword slowly.
All at once, they attacked, leaping and biting. Raven was quick; he leapt up high and avoided the first wave, slicing down as he descended and taking out several of them at once. Rabbit was not so lucky; she took several bites before she had drawn her dagger, and when she did she found kicking them was far more effective, her tiny blade could only take on one at a time and they fairly swarmed over her. She swept several of them away with a leg and covered Wolf's body as well as she could before they attacked again. She felt them swarm all over her, and she felt a burning pain as they bit into her back, her sides, her arms, her legs; everywhere they could sink their teeth in, they did. She saw one go for Wolf, attacking his ear with vigour, and she made to bat it off but before she could the big man shifted underneath her, and she felt herself falling flat on the floor. The rats swarmed once more, but before they could get another bite in there was a terrible roaring and a snarling, and they scattered.
Rabbit opened her eyes. Wolf was standing, blood flowing from his wounds, his mouth, the bite on his ear. But he was standing strong, and as the rats regrouped he stared them down. His mismatched eyes turned to Rabbit – she could see the blue eye was damaged now, too, partially bloodshot.
“Now,” he said, “you see how we fight an army like this.”
And the rats charged. Wolf stood still, waiting as the rats leapt all around him, tumbling over him like a wave. And then there was a flash of claws and the rats fell around him, squealing in fear or pain. The rest of the rats ran for cover, shaking spears and squealing their revenge before disappearing into the shadows.
Rabbit stood, breathless and covered in bites and scratches. She stared as wolf shook and then collapsed; several of his old scars – which can't have been that old, Rabbit thought – burst open, disgorging blood. He gasped as he fell to the floor.
“Wolf!” Rabbit cried. “Oh, you silly thing; why didn't you stay down?”
“Because then we'd all be dead,” Wolf murmured. His eyes were half-open; Rabbit could see the blood leaking from under his good eye.
“He won't die,” Raven said, brushing a final, errant rat from his shoulder where it had been biting him. “He is too proud to be killed by rats, even defending his friends from such an army of them.”
“Did I say... you were my friends?” Wolf managed, attempting to sit up; he got halfway and locked his arm, stopping himself from falling back down. But his head was bowed low and even in the low light Rabbit could see how pale he was.
“You've lost a lot of blood,” Rabbit said. She searched in the dark for her pack – the rats had dragged it far away, but it lurked in the shadows where the firelight just reached.
“What are you doing?” Raven asked.
“I have some bandages in here,” Rabbit replied. She rifled through her pack next to the fire, where she could see, and pulled out various foodstuffs before setting her hand on the battered old tin she'd packed with medicinal herbs and soft bandages. She took the bandages and started wrapping them around Wolf's arms where his scars had ripped, around his waist and abdomen where he had been stabbed (at this, glanced reproachfully at Raven), and took a cloth to wipe the blood from his eye. Only at this did he wince, grimacing and baring his fangs in a snarl of pain.
“That's all the bandages,” Rabbit said as she wiped his eye. “So don't go opening any more old wounds.”
“I'll try,” Wolf said. “But when I am healed up – in no more than a day's time, I promise you, at least with Master Hog's help – you learn to fight properly. You have heart, little one, but no skill.”
“Thank you,” Rabbit said. Eventually, she sat back and smiled at Wolf, now looking a little more like his old self. Raven selflessly offered to go and cook some food for Wolf – nothing fancy, just some rat stew with some of the river water and a rat corpse – and had left the two of them alone for a time.
“Why did you help me?” Wolf asked. He was sitting properly now, legs crossed painfully, but his breathing was more regular and he had regained some of his complexion. “Why did you patch my wounds? I am as good as dead, there is nothing left of me.” For the longest time, Rabbit stared at him, examining his lacerated muscles, his scarred frame, the gnarled hands with scabbed-over knuckles from too much punching, the places where beard-hair did not grow over the scar tissue. Then, she took a deep breath.
“Why did you help me?” she asked. “Why did you guide me through the forest on the first day, and then carry me on your back when I could not keep up? Why did you allow yourself to get hurt so that I would be unharmed by Raven? Why did you fight him off for me? Why did you stand up to those rats when you could have lain down and let us both die while you lived, a little moth-eaten perhaps but alive for Master Hog to fix when he arrived? Why do you protect us?” Wolf smiled at her and looked away bashfully.
“In truth,” he said, “I have no answer. I just helped you because that is what I have done so far. And when I met you, it was obvious that you would not last a day in the Deep Forest – I aim to help you get there, and to help you get back.”
Rabbit smiled and stood.
“I think I understand,” she said. “I'll go see if Raven needs any help with the cooking – but it smells rather nice already. In the meantime, be still and rest; I will be back shortly.” She walked to the fire and sat, warming her hands against it. The mud around it had mostly dried so she was able to sit with some comfort. She turned and looked at Raven, whose face was bitter and drawn. He was very upfront about his problems as Rabbit asked about him.
“Look at you,” he muttered, “fawning over him like he's the world! You adore him, and it's sickening, and I don't know why I stick with the two of you but...” He tailed off here, either afraid Wolf would overhear or just exhausted from his own quiet monologue. Rabbit leaned over and held him tight.
“You stick with us because you must,” Rabbit said eventually. “You are always so certain and confident, and you have not been wrong yet. And you are so fast and agile, with eyes so keen; you are our lookout and our protector in this forest.”
“Thank you,” Raven said. “But in truth I have been wrong about so much. It seems there is more for me to learn about these forests than I had originally assumed. Maybe it was time to leave my nest after all.” Rabbit sat back and felt the warmth of the fire on her skin.
“Why didn't you, before?” she asked. “All these years, you've stayed in your spot. What compelled you to stay in such a place?”
“It's a long story,” Raven said. “But I supposed we've plenty of time for the telling. But you mustn't let Wolf hear – he would be furious with me.
“I stay in that place for the very same reason I kill wolves: a promise I made, to my younglings. When King Deer began assaulting the forest with his army, they were among the first to be killed. I had gone to find food for them, young as they were they could not fly like I can. When I returned there were a dozen wolves tormenting them. They snarled up at the nest and scratched at the tree bark. Well, I leapt back to the nest and told them to stay where they were while I took care of the wolves, but they proved too much for me. I killed several before they overwhelmed me, and my children, in their anger, leapt from the nest and took up my sword. They killed three wolves before the eldest was killed. He died with a bite to the throat and two wolves hanging from each arm while the youngest fought them off. He killed one more before they killed my eldest, and another before the last two fell upon him and tore his throat out. When I saw what had happened, I was devastated. I took up my sword, bloodied as I was, and there was murder in my eyes. The wolves turned in fear and would have run off, free murderers, but my eyes do not forget. I made a promise to my young, dead boys that night: no matter what happened, the wolves would get no farther than my nest, and those two wolves who survived would die by my hand.”
“What happened to the wolves?” Rabbit asked, hugging her knees to her chest. “Did you catch them?”
“Three times I have seen them,” Raven said, “and three times they have eluded me. They have returned to my nest on previous occasions, to taunt me and try to tear me down – I am one of the last ravens alive, and I have seen many more family members go. Wolf has his scars, but mine run deeper than flesh and I intend to see my promise fulfilled on this trip into Deep Forest.”
Rabbit lay down.
“That is a noble quest,” she said. “I hope I can help you complete it.”
“You will,” Raven said, standing. “Starting tomorrow, you learn how to fight. Get some rest now; I will care for Wolf the rest of the night.”
Rabbit lay down and closed her eyes as she heard the two of them conversing in low tones. Soon, she was asleep, but her dreams were punctuated by images of rats and blood and claws and fangs, a dream world bathed in red and images of a man with a crown of antlers, the trees bending before his strength.