Rodent and Stick were together as they backed away, the man holding the pole forward to ward off anything from gaining ground, looking around him for possible escape routes or anything of use. At the base of the trees, he was starting to notice something—a dried black sludge that seemed thin but also deep.

His head shook as he looked around, and now that he was looking for it, he saw more dried splotches of that black stuff. Ahead, one of the cracking trees had cracked itself open, falling three separate ways in three separate pieces, all of which crashed into the ground, breaking, with one of the branches snapping and rolling off.

Rodent cocked his head at watching the branch near one of the splotches, dried leaves still upon it, that was until the black material started to lurch out toward it. Very slowly, minisculely, the sludge ate at the leaf… inching toward the rest of the branch… beginning to devour it.

But the splotch itself did not get bigger or become thicker, instead remaining as thin as it was… but still appearing as though it had endless depth. The man was becoming more afraid of this passive, destructive thing that littered the woods like pimples on a face.

Just as the man was stepping back, he felt something next to his boots, another splotch smaller than a puddle. He gazed into its plain surface, and though his eyes saw nothing… somehow, he could see his reflection within it.

Inside, it seemed to be a sea of black paint that sought to have him within it.

His hand left the pole as he went to hover a hand over the splotch…

…until Stick vibrated—drawing his hand to return.

"Sorry." Rodent both shook his head and out of it, instead looking at the shattered trees ahead, seeing the fallen pieces starting to roll together. Chunks were breaking off and rotting on the ground… attracting the black splotches to eat at whatever remained. "I tend to do stupid shit for a reason."

Around the forest, more lines and cracks were breaking onto the surface of the trees, though many outright crumbled and collapsed—breaking and exploding into nothing. It was as though the woods were trying to come alive… but did not have the life to do so anymore.

Rodent felt more sad than worried at the woods' failed attempt to become alive again—even though that probably meant his death. Most of the trees were exploding open, breaking, leaning to the side, or outright falling over. Rodent watched while still being alert… the woods starting to cease in its attempts.

But the three logs remained ahead, joined together even as their surface started to decay, break off, and be eaten by the black splotches. Green light shone from the hidden cracks, and something breaking free was heard.

Each sound was connected, like a buried thing starting to wiggle out from its hold—assembling itself after the grave. Green light stole over what remained of the logs, preventing the decay as the magic then imploded again. A green ball floated from the middle of the broken logs, a light and a swirl of magic that the man had never seen before.

Wood was pulled from the logs and built around the ball. Exact pieces carved from the bark were assembled, forming a ribcage around the ball and then the rest of the thing's form. Rodent watched on, unsure of how he should be feeling.

"W-What…"

He watched as the magic from the ball started to flourish across the wood and sticks and the planks that made up its armour. The thing was capped with the head of something with a muzzle—appearing like a wolf. It caused Rodent to wonder if such wolves were supposed to break off exactly from the trees without the fanfare.

In seconds, the creature was half-complete, its form crafted, though its back-left leg was missing. It touched down just as the last of the logs were used to aid in its creation. It was a significant, gray thing, with hollow slots for eyes and an empty maw that only had sharpened fangs within.

Rodent gazed at the creature while on his guard, unsure. He didn't feel anything hostile toward the thing, despite knowing that it was probably here to kill him. The thing walked on uneven paws, and its legs bent awkwardly to sustain its weight.

The wooden beast then came toward him, coming to spread out its front paws and lowering its head, growling as the glow of the magical orb within shone upon the inside of its throat. The winds of the swirling orb could also be heard. Rodent, looking at the monster, tried to offer a hand.

"Hey. Listen. I'm just passing through." Rodent bent forward to make himself appear less threatening. "I don't want to harm you. Do nothing to your woods. Or mess… with whatever that is in your chest." Without looking away, he gestured his head behind him. "You probably can't understand me… but I'm just trying to reach the nearest village."

He gulped and stood taller. "What do you say about just letting me go?"

The Wolf growled at him, coming to rise and lift its front leg, its paw rolling freely as it was not locked in. Coming to glance at the tree beside the man, the Wolf barked, slashing at the tree and the man, the latter falling forward to avoid the swipe.

The attack wasn't strong enough to break the tree as its paw blew off from the strike, and as Rodent rose, he watched the creature stick its newly-created stump into the tree. The tree decayed and crumbled at once—but some of its wood was sucked like a vacuum into the limb stuck inside its bark.

Seconds later, the Wolf pulled out its limb, shattering the tree as it became a puff of gray, revealing its now more detailed and secured paw. While it was still in the air, the creature brought the paw down on the man, who ducked to the right to avoid the attack.

Just then, the Wolf brought down its other paw, the weaker one, and the man, out of breath and thinking quickly, held the pole upright just as the paw came down. The creature used its own force and momentum against itself as its paw and, thus, its leg slammed into the pole, which shot into its length and split it from the middle.

The creature fell forward from the lack of support, while Rodent pulled Stick and crawled backward, coming to glance at it and surprised to find Stick's surface wasn't the faintest bit scratched. The beast, meanwhile, started to recover, pushing itself up on its good paw.

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It looked to the right, where another batch of failed trees lay scattered on the ground in pieces, and the man, seeing that the Wolf was heading toward it, did the only thing that came to his mind—he started to wack Stick against its muzzle.

"Hey! No! Bad wood-wolf-thing!” He smacked and smacked the thing's muzzle, each attack causing it to lower when it was struck, its surface and density breaking as he chipped away to within. "We don't have to do this! We don't have to fi—"

The beast fell to its side and attempted to crush the man with its size and weight, though Rodent threw himself out of the way, smacking against the ground and wincing. A second later, a great crashing of the beast struck the ground—some of its barrel cracking and breaking from the impact.

It lay there for a second, weakened and wounded, its muzzle lying on the side, the hollow sockets of its eyes losing the hint of glow that they had before. The creature seemed wholly blind, allowing Rodent to catch his breath and rise once again. Struggling as he rose, he stood there, looking at the fallen beast.

And then he shook his head and charged forward, holding the pole in a jabbing position, thrusting it with a yell into the creature's back—the area not blocked by the ground. Rodent was tired and exhausted, yelling for it seemed to fuel him through this exertion, jab after jab, thrust after thrust, breaking through the barrier of the wooden structure—coming to reveal the internal swirling ball of magic that seemed to grant the thing life.

Rodent finished and stepped back, sweating and burning through his clothes, breathing through his mouth, wearing a steady, determined expression, unsure of what he was doing. Clutching the pole tightly, all he could do was strike at the sphere's center—praying for the best.

But as he went to make the fatal strike, he noticed the creature had not gotten back up, instead pawing at the ground—trying to move toward the tree several feet away. As it did so, more cracks formed in the tree, another animal trying to be born from it… until the whole tree croaked and broke and exploded again.

The creature, seeing this, then came to rest fully, lying against the ground. Its muzzle curled into its chest, and the unnatural animal waited for its end. Its internal light started to fade, the swirling of the orb beginning to slow, with Rodent left to stare through the cavity that he had made.

He remained at the ready, able to strike fully and truly at a second's notice… but he hesitated. His gaze was drawn to the black splotches on the ground, static and still… though now moving toward the monster as though attracted like a magnet.

Rodent watched as his eyes twitched, knowing he no longer had to deal the killing blow. Regardless of all the cracking trees, these woods could not birth anything that would actually be a threat. It made him feel bad in a way, as he did not imagine his first encounter with danger going like this.

It would have been wise for him to leave and begin his search again for others… but something in his heart wouldn't allow it. He was about to do a very dumb thing—but it was those dumb things that felt the most right in his heart.

He came before the monster's muzzle, standing before the approaching splotches, holding out his arms. "Hey! You… things! Back off!" He then held and aimed the pole at them. "I don't know what you are or how to get rid of you—but I'll figure something out." He nudged elsewhere. "There's other things for you to eat on. Get out of here."

The splotches started toward him… not stopping… coming real close… enough that they were within reach of his boots. Rodent stood firm with a thundering heart—though he waited. He knew not what would happen if they touched him… but he was prepared to deal with it.

Just as one of them rose a little from the ground and started to lurch toward him with extending tendrils... the tendrils then stopped. They slithered in the air, centimetres from him… though they came to retract moments later.

The first blotch pulled back, and then the second did the same. The trio started back away and spread, heading toward different places in the woods. Rodent glanced at them curiously, wondering why they didn't touch him.

Was it because he was still strong enough to fight? Did they not like beings from other worlds?

Meh.

The Wolf had not noticed his efforts, so he left to the remains of the tree that had exploded, gathering the pieces and chunks of bark. He didn't care of the splotches there, and though some went to latch onto his hand—they ceased once nearing him again.

Rodent was thankful the same effect applied here, cupping as much wood as he could in one hand and then heading back to the Wolf. The Wolf seemed to notice the wood in his arm and started to growl—even more so when the man neared the beast.

"Will you chill out? I'm not here to kill you." Rodent held up the wood he cradled the best he could. "See? Wood? It's supposed to be good for you, right?" He settled back into place. "I'm not here to hurt you. Why else would I bring you wood?"

The creature glared and growled at him, muzzle jerking as it struggled to rise from the ground, though coming to hold weakly in the air. The beast looked at the pole in his hand. Rodent blew air out of his mouth and made a face.

"Really? You're going to give me trouble for having my weapon?" Rodent asked, stepping forward even though the beast was ready to bite him. "You're the one who attacked first. You're the one who kept attacking—but fine." Rodent raised his weapon, the beast's growl rising, the increasing tension reaching its denotation point.

And then Rodent stabbed the pole into the ground, enough for it to stand upright, Stick vibrating in a way that was scared as Rodent's hand left it. Rodent, however, smiled and spoke softly. "Don't worry. I have no idea what I'm doing." He then within the front of the beast's chipped muzzle. "See? I have nothing to smack you with. Now, can we get to work?"

The beast stared at him for a long time, staring at him, its muzzle still open.

"Listen—you want to bite me? Fight me again? Fine." Rodent remained where he was. "But wait until after we get you patched up. You're broken and weak. Those blotches are out to get you." He held a hand on his chest. "For whatever reason, they don't care about me. Let's use that to our advantage, eh?"

The beast lost its growl, and its head was held straight as though it understood those words.

Rodent blinked—wondering if his ability to talk meant that it included all things.

"I'm going to the side of your muzzle now, and I'll present the wood," Rodent began, walking slowly, exaggeratedly. His legs rose high, tapped down, and rose high again—making a silly show of the gesture. "Remember. Fight’s not back on until you're patched up, right?"

Like that, he came to the beast's side, its muzzle like a wooden counter, the cavity it carved in going straight into the beast's maw. The glow inside its eyes was focused on him as he stared back, holding up his other hand, coming to slowly and carefully lay it upon the beast's muzzle.

The beast growled, and the light became brighter, though Rodent did not pull back his hand. He watched the creature and did not make another move. So, the monster calmed, and Rodent nodded at it, returning to raising the wood to the injury that he had made—holding it there.

And holding it there.

And holding it there.

"I'm going to be honest," Rodent started, looking back at the beast's eyes. "All I'm good for is getting and holding wood. I've no magic." He smiled sheepishly. "The rest is on you."

And the beast…

…seemed to sigh.