Lily woke up in her hammock at what she assumed was early morning but had no way of knowing. Cloudcover still prevented all light from reaching the forest floor and rainwater streamed down the two trunks she and her uncle had tied their hammocks between, hanging just below the canopy. Uncle Vath had taught Lily how to hang strings from the hammock’s anchor ropes to give the water a path down. She was both thankful and relatively dry.
Pulling aside the tarp she had laid across her hammock the night before, Lily collected her pouches from a neat pile by her feet. She was too small for the adult-sized bed, and the extra weight at the bottom helped keep her balanced without sinking into the middle overnight.
Lily scrambled out of the now-bowing hammock and hung from the lower branches of the massive tree as she untied the near end of her hanging bed. She climbed arm over arm along the long branches between the trees while holding the rope in her mouth, then hooked her right arm over the branch to free up a hand to untie the other end. After she had both ends she windmilled the arm holding the hammock to twirl it up and then looped it twice over her shoulder. Still hanging, she patted down her pouches and pockets one last time and, everything accounted for, shimmied down the tree.
Uncle Vath was no morning person and, lacking the need to hide their activities this deep into the forest, would likely sleep in. Lily would have a few hours to herself before they’d resume their journey and she was determined to make them count. It was no small process to get all of her bags and packs tied neatly in order and secured for hiking, so she decided to do it later. For now, it was time to explore.
If she crouched down into a kind of crab-walk scuttle, she could completely pass beneath the blanket ferns all around her and into the world below. And what a world it was. In one awkward crouch her perspective was transformed from that of the smallest of creatures, wading through hip-high plants while the forest towered over her to herself as a giant, her head brushing against the canopy as she observed the small struggles of the tiny beings in their own giant forest.
Thick tree roots breaking through the rich loam formed a series of natural basins that collected rain water in small pools dotting the landscape. A cluster of fern stems sprouted from each, spreading their leaves in a radial pattern to cover as much area as possible. Light here was found in narrow shafts, streaking from the fern canopy to the myriad puddles below.
Lily practiced balancing on the root lips of the ponds, picking out puddles that a single one of her feet could stretch across completely. Wobbling, she caught her balance as she tottered heavily across the clearing, arms and legs splayed out in a crab walk with her butt in the air.
A tiny red lizard no bigger than her thumb hissed at her as she passed and blocked the sunbeam it was basking in. “Sorry,” muttered Lily as she clambered out of the way. Lily picked her way over to the nearest fern stalk and flopped down beside it, peeking around the base at the puddle of water on the other side.
Lily nearly choked, then had to hold her hands over her mouth to stop herself from laughing out loud.
In the puddle sat the fattest toad Lily had ever seen. The thing was the size of Lily’s torso but not at all threatening. Lily doubted it could even move: moss grew out of its back and under the clear water Lily could see its legs half buried in the muck at the bottom.
The toad, apparently hearing Lily’s stifled giggling, opened one eye to regard her. Lily pulled back when she realized she had been spotted and as soon as she moved her head a golden beetle the size of her thumb bounced off of the stalk where she had just been sitting and into the water, then slowly floated over towards the toad. The toad kept its eye on Lily as it casually opened its mouth in time for the beetle to float right in, then closed its mouth and eye in the same motion.
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“No way.”
Lily hopped up and squatted beside the blanket fern. She gently parted the fern leaves until she found it: a packed bird’s nest full of all sorts of shiny odds and ends, including a few golden beetles who were wandering around in a daze. It would only be a matter of time until another one stumbled upon the lower edge leading to the toad’s maw below.
Jackpot.
Lily ‘rescued’ both beetles into her belt pouch. The toad needed to go on a diet anyway. She then examined the rest of the collection. Slightly gruesome cast-off shell pieces comprised the majority of the trove, but there were a few more interesting pieces. A small shard of mirrored glass and a lady’s ring caught her eye: the mirror because she’d always wanted one, and the ring because clearly someone had lost it.
After grabbing the mirror, wrapping it in a piece of cloth to pad the sharp edges, and stuffing the bundle down her shirt, Lily rummaged around in her left pants pocket until she pulled out a small rock that glowed faintly yellow in the dim light around the nest. When she put it in place of the mirror, the whole nest seemed a bit brighter.
Regarding the ring, Lily was facing a bit of a dilemma. Stealing was bad. But if the ring belonged to someone, then that means the bird had stolen it. If she took it back, was she stealing or returning? What if she never found out who it belonged to? But if she gave a trade for it, then wasn’t it like the bird had stolen from her?
Lily decided she was happy with her little mirror shard, and left the ring. The bird could come back at any moment anyways. She squatted back down only to see the frog staring at her. No, staring at her pouch. It looked at her, then back at her pouch, then at her. How could a frog’s eyes be pleading? Wasn’t that for dogs and cats?
“Ok, but just one!” Lily sighed. Then she got an idea. Lily ever so slowly reached down into her belt pouch. The toad’s eyes, both now opened, tracker her hand with a razor focus. They bulged slightly as she pulled out one of her new golden beetles, then narrowed in displeasure when Lily stuck her tongue out at it, set the frog down on her side of the puddle, winked, and scooted off in her strange crab walk.
The toad closed its eyes and settled back into its rest.
When Lily was finally out of sight, its tongue shot out faster than the eye could see and a razor sharp spike on the end impaled the poor beetle, which quivered once and then stilled. The tongue retracted just as quickly, and no sign of the shiny bug remained. A single ripple lazily spread from the frog across the pond.
Meanwhile, Lily was doing her best frog impression, squatting down and then springing out, stretching her whole body out to hop from root to root, then collapsing into the same squat. On her final landing at the next fern, she let out a deep throaty “Ribbit” when she landed, then laughed so hard she slipped and rolled off of the giant root. Not wanting to fall into the puddle and get soaked, she quickly threw her arms out and caught herself, spread across the pool with her butt in the air and her toes barely pressing against the back side. There were a series of small peninsulas of dirt along her right side, and she walked herself hand under hand back into a crouching position.
“Close” Lily muttered to herself in a singsong voice. She panted in relief. She had just started getting dry after last night’s rain and didn’t want to have to hang her clothes out again and make them late for setting out. Thinking about heading out, her uncle should wake up soon and it would be time to head back.
Lily figured she had a few more minutes at least. She kicked off her shoes and pulled off her socks, then sat with her back against a nearby fern stalk, letting her feet trail in the pool she had almost fallen into.
Silt and fallen leaves swirled in the bottom of the pool as she kicked around a bit, and something strange in the shape of it caught her eye. It was irregular in shape, a long oval with those weird dirt protrusions on one side. She stopped kicking to stare at it and as the silt began to settle, it all drifted down into the deepest part on one side, revealing two depths in the pool: the natural puddle on the one side, and on her side, a giant paw print. One big enough for her to almost fall into.
Lily decided she should head back to camp and wake her uncle early.