Along the Stream
A young girl walked through the forest in a daze, lost and without a known destination or path to follow. The huge trees around her were so spread out she thought it was like a giant's orchard. The gray and brown trunks wide enough she couldn't even reach her arms halfway around them. The lowest branches were so high they blended in with the canopy, a cloud of browns and greens that masked the sky.
When sunlight did break through the canopy it revealed a morose sight. The long forgotten rotting trunk of a fallen giant. Surrounded by a bed of clover and a few saplings come to pay respects to their dead. Shelf mushrooms and insects devoured the old tree as fast as the rot did. She was surprised to find the inside of the tree hollow and red. Not like blood, but a lighter rusty sand color.
The lost girl ignored it, she had seen it before and was now too tired to appreciate the scene. She hurried along, warded off by the insects and memories of sickness from the mushrooms. The ground sloped slightly, and she absent mindedly followed the slope down. Her hazy mind helped the ground in tipping her forwards, feet moving to catch her and carry her downhill. She didn't register the approaching change in landscape until the last moment.
The young girl stumbled out of the forest and down the embankment towards the edge of a stream. She didn't stop, running directly into the stream and dropping into the water to drink from it. She gulped and drank in a rush, as though the water would be taken from her at any moment.
She had been without water for at least two days, wandering lost through the huge forest the whole time. She didn't remember leaving her home or why she was traveling through this place. Yet she thought little of that, hunger and thirst had gnawed at her, but now she had found a stream. It was cold and refreshing.
As her drinking slowed she began to check herself over. Matted black hair, stuck to her head, its usual shoulder length disrupted by the dirt tangling and bunching it up against her neck. Her copper skin was dusty from travel except around and below her golden hazel eyes which were now red and bloodshot. All that and the dirt smeared on her cheeks clearly showed she had been crying recently. The natural off-white of her woolen dress was a dusty dark gray, with the lower hem closer to brown from the dirt of the forest. She stayed in the quiet stream and began washing her dress and hair. Her mother might have a fit if she saw her like this. She teared up when her mother came to mind, so she pushed the painful memories away.
She scrubbed the heavy canvas front of the dress. It was her work dress, so an apron was sewn into the front to save fabric. Usually when she went to the forest she would have worn her lighter play dress. She didn't know why she was in her work dress now, maybe she had been helping her father. She started tearing up again, a tightness grabbed at her throat and chest. She focused on her task; the rough canvas was perfect for scrubbing the dirt out of the rest of the dress, and even for cleaning herself and her hair. Though, she could only do so much without soap.
Refreshed and cleaned, as much as she could. She took another long drink from the stream, she felt slightly nauseous from drinking so much and found her hunger returned, now that her thirst was sated. She checked over the pockets sewn into her dress along the seam where the canvas apron met the woolen fabric of the rest of the dress, the pockets were all empty. Odd, she thought, when were they ever empty?
She looked into the forest the way she came. Uncertainty and fear in her expression. She knew she shouldn't be in the forest, not this deep especially, it was dangerous. All the fairy tales she knew spoke of Myst Magic confounding travelers and trickster Fey stealing their sight or voices. Even if most of the simpler stories had happy endings, she had heard some of the ones that ended in tragedy as well. Those always seemed like they were the true stories.
She looked upriver, it meandered through the trees disappearing quickly, the distant shadow of a mountain range peeking above the forest. Then downriver, it turned sooner the forest quickly blocking the view. She remembered the most important advice she had been told. Head downriver. She would find a village eventually, they were always on streams and rivers. She got up and began to follow the stream.
The canopy seemed less dense along the stream. The trees were smaller, letting more light in, and gave way for more bushes and other small plants. A few huge roots appeared to burst up from the earth along the embankment, leading into the water. She tracked them running back to the nearest of the huge trees deeper into the forest. She took notice of the different trees along the other side of the stream. The trees were gray-brown titans, but the only-large ones near the stream were showing red coloration on their bark and leaves.
Across the stream, the trees were smaller still. Clusters of thin dark trunks sprouted from the same spot in the ground. Like someone had gathered flowers into a bouquet, then grown them into trees. The lost girl thought the leaves and branches looked normal enough. The clusters deeper in had grown tall, their tops filled with branches so dense they looked like they could block the sun, even without the mass of leaves they supported.
Occasionally she would see a group of mushrooms or a fruiting berry bush. Her reaction to the food was almost a force of habit, she rushed towards it then stopped to look closer. Her previous experience of an entirely unpleasant day in the forest after eating the rotting shelf mushrooms made her hold back from stuffing the food into her mouth immediately.
It was a cluster of small round mushrooms this time, tucked under the embankment along the stream. Dark stalks with small white caps, a couple of the larger ones had black dots on their caps. She frowned at that, trying to remember if that meant something, picking through them with her fingers. The black dots could be bad, so she started with the smallest ones, picking off just the caps.
She popped one in her mouth and chewed slowly, savoring and testing the flavor. Earthy and savory, hints of bitterness, with a light and fluffy texture. She kept eating slowly, one at a time. The third time she tested one with many black dots, it had a sharp, sour flavor. She spit it out immediately and went to the stream to rinse her mouth. She couldn't risk getting sick again. She had barely been able to keep moving during that day. Even feeling awful, she had known that stopping and staying put in the forest was bad, so she had forced herself to keep moving.
She moved back to the mushrooms and picked the rest of the small white caps without spots. Eating them cautiously while walking along the stream again. Only one more had the sour flavor and she caught it quickly, rinsing her mouth in the stream again. Some food was supposed to be sour, she knew, but not mushrooms, that was just wrong. She wouldn't have taken the risk after the first one, but she really didn't have options now. She knew she needed whatever she could eat.
When she became hungry but couldn't find food, she repeated a long held habit. A lock of hair from her bangs dangled down her face and she idly sucked on the end. She had managed to stop the day before, only because her hair was so dirty from travel that it tasted foul. Now that it was clean her habit had returned. That tip of her black hair had even faded to tan and then white from years of the habit.
Her father joked that she had been sucking the color right out of it and that her tongue would turn black from it, but she had figured out that it was from the citrus fruit juice of their family's orchard. When doing laundry they used the stronger juice to remove stains, which let her realize it was also bleaching her hair when she put the hair in her mouth after eating the fruit. She wondered when she would next be able to eat the sweet oranges and tarte lemons from their orchard. The memories of food made her stomach protest, and the memories of her family made her eyes tear up again.
Later, with the sun was dipping into the treetops. She looked for a place to stop for the night. Her feet were getting sore; her footwraps had gotten to be uncomfortable since getting soaked by the stream. She was surprised to find an odd clearing open up next to the stream, the rough forest parting for a different kind of space.
It looked like the area they kept clear around her home, with fewer trees and no loose brush or dead growth. She couldn't remember clearly why they had kept the forest clean like that, maybe she was just remembering their orchard. Whenever she tried to focus on the memories of her home she felt awful, her throat would get dry and tight, then she would get light headed like she was about to faint, and she would have to sit down for a time. A few times she had started crying without knowing why. So she didn't try to remember much now.
The cleared area was very orderly, like a well tended yard. No loose sticks or leaves were scattered and no dead or dying brush was built up like the rest of the forest. The girl knew a person must be near, keeping it clean, maybe she was near the edge of the forest finally.
The trees themselves were smaller than she had been used to seeing. Sure all the redwoods had been getting smaller since she started following the stream, but these now seemed a munch more normal size.
She followed the edge of the clearing for a while, not going deep into it. It felt like trespassing, like walking into someone else's home without permission. She could tell the area was circular, the trees were oddly arranged. Sometimes she could see deep into the center of the area, which was completely open. No cottage, camp, or shelter was in the area.
As she explored her left hand nervously tugged at her dress, pulling at a section of hemp rope that had replaced a canvas strap meant to support the heavy apron front. The fake strap and its mirror went up the front of her dress over her shoulders and crossed at her back like suspenders. She remembered that it had been replaced with the rope just this spring, the heavy hemp rope fared much better against her habit of nervously fidgeting with it.
By the time the sun had set she had circled the area and was certain no one was around. It was late enough now that the forest was getting dark and dangerous to walk through, loose footing could be as much of a hazard as foul food. She stayed in the clearing, the soft grass in the area was a dream to walk through, and she knew she would not find a softer bed tonight. The base of one slightly larger tree seemed inviting so she curled up in the grass between two roots. A small pile of fallen leaves acted as a pillow, looking like it had been raked up and left. Other loose leaves had been surprisingly hard to find in this well tended clearing. Simply knowing someone must have been here recently provided comfort and soothed her into sleep quickly.
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A Passing Dream
An odd sight this deep into the forest. A young human girl curled up under a tree. She shivered slightly and a moment later the large tree above her also shivered, probably from the wind. A few leaves fell from its branches. The dim moonlight filtered through the trees cast the scene in silhouette, faint outlines, and highlights drawing just the edges of everything. Then a sight that would have made any bard's heart dance, another young girl floated down out of the tree.
She descended slightly faster than the fluttering leaves around her. A keen observer might see she was standing on a leaf. It tried to twist and spin out from under her, but her footing held it firm as she rode it slowly down to the grass. The leaf girl's dress was simple and similar to that of the girl on the ground, but was made of leaves and bark instead of spun wool and canvas. Her long red hair was loosely braided down her back with green leaves and twigs woven in, the colors contrasting sharply even in the moonlight. At first glance it seemed messy, yet the symmetry of the arrangement made it clearly intentional. Alighting on the ground, she looked to the sleeping girl and tilted her head. Her intensely thoughtful expression was an amusing contrast on such a young face. An observer would have said the leaf girl looked to be an older pre-teen or possibly just into her teen years, whereas the sleeping girl appeared a few years younger.
The girl on the ground shivered again as the late night breeze gusted. The other girl reacted by nodding to herself then smiling in satisfaction, she bent down and closely inspected the sleeping girl. She "tsked" quietly at her tattered clothes. She wanted to do more for the lost girl, but the forest had rules, and she would be pushing them already.
She stood, walked away, and began collecting fallen leaves. Some from the ground and some falling off the trees as she walked. She did not struggle to catch them mid air, she simply plucked them from the air effortlessly, as though they were not spinning chaotically through the dim night. As she gathered and deliberately stacked them in her arms the pile quickly grew to an odd looking size that seemed unwieldy. Yet, she had no issue with her collection.
Finally arriving back at the sleeping girl, she cast the pile of leaves out into the air in front of her like she was tossing a blanket over the girl. Surprisingly, the leaves obeyed this intent, spreading evenly through the air, then settling down over the sleeping girl.
As the leaf girl tucked her in, the lost girl broke from her sleep and through the edges of dreams she spotted the leaf girl and pulled the natural blanket tight around herself, "hmmm...? Thank you." she quietly said as she drifted back to sleep. Now warm and cozy.
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A Parting Gift
The morning sun stirred the lost girl from the best sleep she could remember. The cozy leaf blanket urged her to stay asleep and enjoy the comfort. She rolled over and bumped into the tree roots. That woke her enough to realize that the leafy blanket wasn't just in her dreams and the dreamlike thing was actually there.
Sitting up quickly she began looking around for whoever had left it with her. A loose memory of an odd girl tucking her in bubbled through her thoughts. Now that she was awake, the habit of moving forwards, and following the stream pulled her up from the comfy rest. She searched around for a minute or two, looking for the leaf girl.
Giving up and heading to the exit of the clearing, she stopped before leaving. Looking at the leaf blanket she wasn't sure if she should take it since it wasn't hers.
"Uhmm... Hello?... Do you mind if I have this?" She called out at the clearing, not expecting a response.
A stiff gust of wind from the center of the clearing suddenly picked up, and blew more leaves as well as the blanket right into her, and she stumbled back out of the clearing.
"Gahh!" she cried in surprise. "Well, thank you!" She called out to the clearing again.
Following the stream again, the girl inspected her mysterious new item. It was oddly put together, she couldn't find any stitch marks or weave patterns. The leaves were just kind of stuck together, slightly loose so there were some holes between them. Checking the edges she found a bit of vine along one of the narrow edges and she recognized the way it was attached.
"Oh!" she exclaimed "It's a cloak!"
She quickly fastened it around herself and was quite distracted playing with it as she continued her walk downstream. The morning passed by quickly as she forgot her plight and was able to be a kid again playing and pretending heroics with her newest fantastical equipment, a stick made for a heroic sword or bow as the situation demanded.
Then her stomach grumbled a bit and ruined her mood. She sighed in defeat as she realized she hadn't been on the lookout for food that entire time. A search of the nearby area showed no signs of berry or mushroom. So she continued on her way, still enjoying the new cloak, but paying more attention to the plants along the stream.
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A Feathered Find
Another night and day passed quickly. The lost girl drifting between exhaustion and dull boredom. The time wasn't completely uneventful. She made fun when she could but tried to keep moving downstream.
The trees around them were changing slowly. The redwoods shrinking and giving way to white birch trees. The trees themselves grew quickly, and became gnarled and weathered from age. Signs of broken branches, split trunks, and the odd tree struggling to survive cropped up. Giving this side of the stream in a somewhat haunting backdrop.
The other side stayed close to the same. Another type of tree was starting to show up rarely. Usually deeper in, so the girl only caught glances of them. They were notable because their branches bent low to the ground, the longest clusters of small leaves nearly touching the ground. Even under the dense canopy, they stood out, well lit by the sun.
She found several berry bushes that seemed safe to eat. Though the birds had left them alone. She might have found this concerning if she knew more about the plants and birds of the forest. The berries were a dull orange, with red flesh inside. They had a mildly sweet taste, with an odd metallic aftertaste that reminded her of well water from some place she couldn't recall clearly. The berry seeds were overly bitter so she spat them out as she followed the stream.
A large raven had taken to following her and eating the discarded seeds. Once she noticed, and after her shock passed, she tried to play with the bird, seeing if it would chase the seeds when thrown or dig for them when buried. It surprised her a bit by doing neither. It clearly saw her throw them, as it matched her stare when she looked back to watch it follow the seeds, which it did not do. It stayed still and held her gaze. She thought it best to not waste the seeds after that.
Near the end of the second day the raven cawed in surprise at one of the seeds. Then brought it to her. This frightened the girl and made her run away a short distance, not understanding the large black bird.
Some brief negotiation later she was inspecting what the raven had found. It appeared to be a seed from the berries, with some red fruit flesh still attached. However it was metallic. Like someone had cast a duplicate of the seed in steel or silver. The weight also surprised her, it felt like it was a large stone rather than just a small seed of metal.
"Well, this is unexpected." The girl stated the obvious. "Suppose you wouldn't want to eat this?" she asked the raven. It cawed in response and began cleaning itself, clearly not understanding her. She tucked it into her apron pocket for safe keeping.
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A Tempting Discovery
That night the odd pair looked for a place to rest, but found nothing until the sun had set. What they found was another clearing, similar to the one two nights ago. This one had a large vegetable garden at the center. Yet the feeling of trespassing was stronger than before.
She looked to the raven standing at the edge of the clearing, neither willing to take the first step in. "Hope I'm not offending anyone by letting myself in?" she asked the trees and the open space. No gust of wind guided her this time as she forced herself to take a step inside.
This place seemed older and larger than the last clearing, the birch trees all around them were much larger, the ones in the clearing looked much healthier than the surrounding forest. They grew tall and straight. None showed signs of misfortune.
The central garden was cleanly tended, yet the edges of the clearing itself were less defined, the mess of the forest floor scattering inwards. She did not circle this area like the last. The comfortable feeling she remembered from the first clearing wasn't as clear here, but the young girl's inexperience couldn't determine what was different exactly. It felt a lot more like being in someone else's house than the last place.
As she looked for a place to rest she drifted towards the center. The well tended garden stood out in the moonlight, the allure of fresh food held her attention. While she thought she knew better from her previous experience with foraging, her hunger betrayed her. Stomach rumbling, she stared at the garden in envy. It felt like watching someone's meal through a window, a clear intrusion of privacy. Yet her stomach panged with hunger, slowly pushing her forwards. A few steps in the wind picked up, a chilly bitter thing pushing her back from the garden.
The crisp colors of the plants shone in the moonlight. Juicy tomatoes and full pea-pods tempted her. Large squashes spoke of abundant surplus, the tops of orange carrots hinted at sweet crunchy freshness.
The raven cawed at her, dragging her attention away briefly. She had taken many steps towards the center garden without thinking. The chill wind brought a crisp reminder of the night, but also the fresh scent of a lush garden. She turned and took another step closer. She noticed the grass felt tall and coarse, less welcoming.
She thought briefly whether she should take what was here. What seemed freely available, no fence blocked it, no sign or scarecrow defended it. The wind pushed her back, interrupting her greed. The raven cawed and squawked insistently behind her.
Finally, she turned away completely to see the raven on the ground hopping in place then away along the grass, skipping over the tree roots, and cawing a demand that she follow it. With the garden's spell broken, the girl did follow it away, and around one of the larger trees. Out of sight of the garden and out of the chill wind, she sat in the soft grass and exhaustion held her.
With a clearer mind, fading to sleep, she thought: as tempting as the garden was, just seeing it through the trees felt like an intrusion. Like she had walked in on someone's private study or interrupted a meal. At the time she did not have clear words, just uncomfortable feelings. So she didn't overthink the situation and just curled up under the tree in the soft grass between the large roots.
The raven waited, keeping her company but not willing to be held or covered with the leaf cloak. It did not need to wait long, the girl was sound asleep quickly. It hopped away then took wing to a distant tree, to wait outside the uncomfortable clearing, where it could still watch over the young girl, its source of easy meals.
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