Cali felt a warm, comforting sensation against her skin, akin to being cradled. Beneath her head, there was a pleasant squishiness that invited her to return to sleep, for just five more minutes. It would have been perfect if not for the ache in her arm. She must have slept on it funny. 

Hoping to relieve the ache, Cali tried to stretch out. Her body would not move in the slightest. That was... worrying. She needed to see her situation, but her eyes wouldn’t open. It was like they were glued shut. As the bleariness cleared from her brain, a fresh recollection dawned on her. She had fallen and been enveloped in the spongy mass of the branch. She was trapped, blind, and all alone in a strange world. 

She’d read about carnivorous plants trapping their prey and digesting them over the course of weeks. Goosebumps rippled across her skin. Cali shuddered. It sounded like a horrid way to die. She could imagine laying here, helpless, as her body dissolved. The image triggered her fight or flight reflexes, and her heart started to race. Adrenaline coursed through her veins; she had to escape. 

Cali wriggled and squirmed, but her prison did not budge. Despite her predicament, fresh, clean air flowed into her lungs with every panicked breath. The membrane was air-permeable, meaning she wouldn’t suffocate anytime soon. Instead, she’d die of thirst unless the tree digested her first. 

Fuck! Years of planning her escape, and she’d messed it all up. If she couldn’t break free, then Cali was plant food. 

Plagued by thoughts of her impending death Cali struggled for what must have been hours. She wriggled, squirmed, pushed, and kicked, but, despite her efforts, her knife remained out of reach. 

Cali struggled until she couldn’t muster the energy to continue. It had been to no avail. After hours of struggling, Cali was panting from the exertion, weary to the bone, and no closer to escaping. 

That was when she heard the telltale sound of approaching feet. It was quiet at first, but it was getting louder like they were getting closer. Cali felt the faint flame of hope, nearly extinguished, flare to life. She craned her head, pushing her ear to the surface as much as the membrane would allow. With shallow breaths, she calmed her frayed nerves and listened. 

There were two pairs of footsteps that fell in and out of sync. That meant there were two different creatures, bipedal creatures, and they were getting closer. Cali could feel the vibrations of their footsteps in the walls of her membranous prison. They were nearby. If she called out to them... 

It would be a gamble; she knew nothing about them. 

Given the pattern of the last few hours, odds where, they’d try and kill her. But it was her only hope. Her options were either the certain death of remaining trapped, or the risk of death at the hands of these creatures. 

The choice was clear. At least with creatures, escape was on the table. 

With a single deep breath, she steeled her resolve, then screamed.

----------------------------------------

Several minutes earlier. 

Two spreiban were enjoying their late morning walk. After a leistering night, it was their tradition to spend the morning at ease. The pair would walk together, chat, and idly check the traps for birds and other creatures for the clan’s supper, while the day melted away. 

During their wanderings, the smaller of the two spreiban piped up. “I hope we find something interesting today Fen. I’m awful tired of maisel bird every day.” 

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

The larger spreiban, Fen, nodded es assent. “Eating maisel everyday grates on the soul.” The words came out dry and raspy like flakes off a block of charcoal. Fen glanced about and lowered es voice before continuing. “You’d best be careful what you wish for Nog, the forest has a mean sense of humour.” 

Nog’s entire face froze in horror, then, after a moment, es ears drooped. Es voice came out in a near whisper. “I remember what happened to Pav.” The little spreiban shuddered, the motion started in es shoulders and worked its way down es whole body. 

Fen placed a comforting hand upon Nog’s shoulder. “Don’t worry pup. Keep your eyes and ears alert and we’ll be safe enough. Come on, we’ve more traps to check.” Nog nodded, and the pair resumed their walk. They made their way to the next trap in silence, their eyes darting to and fro. The mention of Pav’s fate had reminded them of how crucial it was to be cognizant of the jungle’s dangers.

A loud scream from their destination broke the silence. Fen grimaced. “Looks like the forest might have granted your wish.” 

Nog shied away from the sound, taking a half step behind es larger compatriot. “I don’t suppose we can just head back? Pretend we never heard it,” Nog’s question was half-hearted; e already knew the answer. 

Fen turned so that es eyes were staring into Nog’s. The pair were so close that e could feel Nog’s nervous breath on es face. Without breaking eye contact, e challenged the younger spreiban, “Do you wish to dishonour the vold-oath and anger the trees?” Es words were severe, rumbling from es throat like an avalanche and pulverizing Nog’s objections. “You know this. The ancient oath binds us. We must end the suffering of any prey caught in the traps, and blood must be offered to the tree.” 

Fen’s eyes softened, and es voice took on an almost parental tone, “Thicken your sap, pup, we will do what must be done.” E patted Nog on the back, and steered em onwards, toward the source of the noise.

Fen and Nog took slow, measured steps as they approached. Their bristles quivered, and their eyes scanned their surroundings. With practiced ease, each retrieved a short blade, fashioned from bone, from their belts. Whatever had made that sound, they were ready.

Most days, cysug traps only caught maisel birds. The large, colourful birds were the only creatures foolish enough to land upon a cysug branch. On a normal day, Fen and Nog’s duty was easy: Kill the trapped bird; carve its carcass from the branch and pour an offering of blood onto the exposed wood. Having fulfilled their vold-oath, they would return with the maisel carcass to feed the clan.

Today was not a normal day. 

The spongy flesh of the branch before them was bowed outward by the form of the creature caught within. It was much too big to be a maisel bird. Nog slowed, putting es larger companion between em and the trapped creature. If Fen noticed es companion's cowardice, e did not comment. As the pair continued to approach, the creature let out another terrifying scream. Whatever the tree had trapped wanted out. 

Both Fen and Nog recoiled, eyes wide with fear, bristles standing on end. Fen was the first to recover. E turned to es companion and placed a hand on es shoulder. The gesture seemed to steady Nog’s nerves, and the smaller spreiban stopped quivering. 

Fen leaned towards es companion and whispered, “I don’t think this one is prey. We may be vold-bound to this duty but...” Fen trailed off and took a step away from Nog so the two were face to face again. Es expression was grave. “Should I fail, this predator will be unleashed. I need you to run back to the enclave now. And... If I do not return, prepare the clan for the danger.” 

Nog nodded once, acknowledging the duty e had been given. As Nog looked up at es friend and mentor, e could feel cold tears running down es face. Words were useless. E’d show es devotion through action. Nog turned, and with just one backward glance, sprinted towards the enclave as fast as es wee legs would carry em. 

Fen watched es friend hop from branch to branch until e disappeared into the distance. Once e was sure Nog was well underway, Fen knelt. E placed es  hands upon the lump and felt the form of the creature. 

It froze when e began to poke and prod at the spongy tissue. That sort of reaction suited es purposes, it was easier to target the vitals if it wasn’t thrashing about. E’d give the creature a good clean death. With maisel birds, a blade to the neck sufficed. Regardless of what this creature was, e figured the neck was probably a safe bet. 

Once e was satisfied that e’d located the creature’s vitals, Fen readied es knife. E placed the tip against the spongy cysug tissue that covered the creature’s neck and raised es head towards the sky.

Staring up into the canopy, Fen whispered a prayer, “Oh mighty Keeper, binder of vold-oaths and guardian of the spreiban, guide and protect me even as the branches sway beneath me.” 

Having completed the typical benediction, Fen lowered es eyes to the trapped creature before em, and raised es knife. 

With a single, clean motion, e plunged es knife downwards.