Categories > Original > Drama
Forest Reminders
0 reviewsShort. Kid is awoken in the mild of the night and remembers some things she misses.
0Unrated
Her eyes flashed open, her heart beating fast, the thoughts in her mind tumbling over one another. "No," she whispered softly, a word she had near screamed in her mind only a thought before. A dream? No. Dream were never so real, so true, so pure. This was more than a simple dream. Worried, she twisted within the bed to look upon the sleeping face of the woman beside her. The only one she had dared to call lover in so long a time, it was near immeasurable. But Cal slept on, blissfully unaware of Kid's troubles. The thought was reassuring, and carefully as she might, the waken one drew back the blanket to slip out into the night chilled air, then tucked its warmth back in once more. She glanced around the room until finding the travel packs they carried with them. Crammed with items they needed and dared not leave elsewhere, she pulled out a soft dressing robe, and slung it over her nude body. The sun was not yet even to the horizon, the quiet town they had stopped in sleeping all around them. To awake to stay within the room, she padded barefoot across the wooden floor, opening the door and exiting the burrowed room. Out to the hall and into the main tavern room, she noted that many of the workers simply slept here. It kept them ready for late night travelers, and aware of trouble in the streets.
Kid had to smile at that. Had she not been a hunter, trained to stalk through a forest with stealth and focus, the man who had given them the room might have awoken at her passing. But she was skilled in her trade, and only made the slightest sound as she opened the door to flow out into the night.
Below her feet she felt the cool ground. Hard, it spoke of coming autumn, of frost and frozen dew. It told her what she already knew, that they would need to move to warmer lands, and that they would need to find warmer clothes. Her flower, the small girl she and her butterfly had taken under wing, had nearly become sick last year, unaccustomed to the life and travel that they had. Camping out and huddling close was not the child's idea of an adventure, and it had become clear quickly what was needed. Their charge would not suffer such things again.
Closing her eyes, Kid drifted down the street, feeling the chill breeze as it tugged past her thin clothing, stealing the little heat she had carried with her. It was no matter. Her attention was elsewhere. She was seeing something different, some time different, some place different. While around her buildings stood no more than a story high, Kid was seeing trees towering over head. The trunks were wider then the longest barn, the beams of the branch a roof staggered far over head. The roots rose from the earth, buckling, so tall that they would hide the nearest home, keeping it in constant shadow. Still the memory of being dwarfed by such things brought a smile upon her lips. She could feel that pulse of life, the slow flow from earth to root to trunk to tree. The way that the flowers, no matter the season, would be open wide, shifting their scents in the wind. Once she knew the time of day, the day of season, simply by what fragrance was within breeze. Now, she could only draw upon memories, tasting them almost, and stirring in her mind what it could possibly be. There were flowers and petals and leaves and stems, plants and seeds that markets would flourish if they knew and found. But some had been lost to nothing but the deepest of the lands, to ownership you would sell your very being to before you could know that the herbs were even there. Well she knew the dangers of such lands, and the god of the forest who ruled them.
Come back... the memories whispered.
"No!" Kid's eyes flew open, startled to see the night sky before her. Where was the sun? The creek that chuckled behind her? Turning quickly, she looked around her frantically, shifting to realize that what she had been seeing were mere memories, and this was the reality. Blinking, she touched her forehead. There was no jewelry there. This town of sleeping daily life, with the earth preparing for cold months ahead, the distant farms waiting for the coming dawn, and the embers the only burning thing. It did not hold the waters flowing over rocks, to ponds with soft grass to spend hours merely lounging. It did not hold the little burrows, meant for games of hiding. It did not hold the secret watching eyes of something few could see, and it did not hold that voice, calm and steady, deep and rich as that forest loam itself.
Slowly the muscles within her chest relaxed, and a sigh released from her lungs. No. She was not there. She was still here, in the open, with her flower and her butterfly. They would travel away from the forest more tomorrow. Perhaps they would go toward the ocean. Perhaps they would find a sky ship and travel in the air. Perhaps, perhaps. For now she was only getting colder, and there was warmth back in her room. A small smile, and she glanced once more to the sky. She still had adventures to complete before she traveled home.
Turning, the woman returned once more to the comfort of her night's shelter. Under the roof and within the protective walls, she snuggled close to her companion, and drifted into sleep. Outside, the soft rolling hoot of an owl was made; its pupils so large the entire eye looked black. The head swiveled to look back toward the forest, its preferred hunting ground, and again it made a call. Waiting, there was no heard answer, and the silent night flier took off from his roof top perch, and proceeded to seek an evening meal.
Kid had to smile at that. Had she not been a hunter, trained to stalk through a forest with stealth and focus, the man who had given them the room might have awoken at her passing. But she was skilled in her trade, and only made the slightest sound as she opened the door to flow out into the night.
Below her feet she felt the cool ground. Hard, it spoke of coming autumn, of frost and frozen dew. It told her what she already knew, that they would need to move to warmer lands, and that they would need to find warmer clothes. Her flower, the small girl she and her butterfly had taken under wing, had nearly become sick last year, unaccustomed to the life and travel that they had. Camping out and huddling close was not the child's idea of an adventure, and it had become clear quickly what was needed. Their charge would not suffer such things again.
Closing her eyes, Kid drifted down the street, feeling the chill breeze as it tugged past her thin clothing, stealing the little heat she had carried with her. It was no matter. Her attention was elsewhere. She was seeing something different, some time different, some place different. While around her buildings stood no more than a story high, Kid was seeing trees towering over head. The trunks were wider then the longest barn, the beams of the branch a roof staggered far over head. The roots rose from the earth, buckling, so tall that they would hide the nearest home, keeping it in constant shadow. Still the memory of being dwarfed by such things brought a smile upon her lips. She could feel that pulse of life, the slow flow from earth to root to trunk to tree. The way that the flowers, no matter the season, would be open wide, shifting their scents in the wind. Once she knew the time of day, the day of season, simply by what fragrance was within breeze. Now, she could only draw upon memories, tasting them almost, and stirring in her mind what it could possibly be. There were flowers and petals and leaves and stems, plants and seeds that markets would flourish if they knew and found. But some had been lost to nothing but the deepest of the lands, to ownership you would sell your very being to before you could know that the herbs were even there. Well she knew the dangers of such lands, and the god of the forest who ruled them.
Come back... the memories whispered.
"No!" Kid's eyes flew open, startled to see the night sky before her. Where was the sun? The creek that chuckled behind her? Turning quickly, she looked around her frantically, shifting to realize that what she had been seeing were mere memories, and this was the reality. Blinking, she touched her forehead. There was no jewelry there. This town of sleeping daily life, with the earth preparing for cold months ahead, the distant farms waiting for the coming dawn, and the embers the only burning thing. It did not hold the waters flowing over rocks, to ponds with soft grass to spend hours merely lounging. It did not hold the little burrows, meant for games of hiding. It did not hold the secret watching eyes of something few could see, and it did not hold that voice, calm and steady, deep and rich as that forest loam itself.
Slowly the muscles within her chest relaxed, and a sigh released from her lungs. No. She was not there. She was still here, in the open, with her flower and her butterfly. They would travel away from the forest more tomorrow. Perhaps they would go toward the ocean. Perhaps they would find a sky ship and travel in the air. Perhaps, perhaps. For now she was only getting colder, and there was warmth back in her room. A small smile, and she glanced once more to the sky. She still had adventures to complete before she traveled home.
Turning, the woman returned once more to the comfort of her night's shelter. Under the roof and within the protective walls, she snuggled close to her companion, and drifted into sleep. Outside, the soft rolling hoot of an owl was made; its pupils so large the entire eye looked black. The head swiveled to look back toward the forest, its preferred hunting ground, and again it made a call. Waiting, there was no heard answer, and the silent night flier took off from his roof top perch, and proceeded to seek an evening meal.
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