The Fifth

Delphi

When the helicopter leaves, the woods are silent. For a few moments, time stands still. I look down and find that I have gripped Willow's hand tightly. Normally, I'd let go in disgust, but the circumstances make me grateful for it. Her hand feels like my mother's: soft and careworn.
When we take our first step into the crackling leaves, time remembers us. The nightingales' tunes interweave themselves into the trees. The owls hoot occasionally, and the frogs and crickets make themselves known in perfect harmony. The black tree trunks groan here and there, and the canopy of the wood perfectly frames the silver moon, which is still up. Maybe the darkness is slightly foreboding, but there is beauty in everything. Especially the forest.
And the slight sliver of pink in the distance makes the eastern side of the wood slightly purple.
"Let's find a place to sleep," I say.
"What do we have in our backpacks?" Willow asks.
"Let's climb a tree and then open them."
"Fair. There may be dangerous animals around."
Soon we find a beautiful tree with heavy foliage and thick branches. The first branch is taller than both of us, and I, being the better climber, go first. I give my backpack to Willow and run and jump to catch the branch. I then hook my legs over and hang from my knees, then do a kind of sit-up so I find myself sitting on top of it. Willow throws me the backpacks, I scurry up the tree to a convenient fork, and wait for her.
She appears a moment later (it takes her two tries) and I hand her a pack. She opens hers and begins to shift through the contents. I do the same.
A packet of water purification pills, a pan (which is very heavy and inconvenient), a knife, and a small coiled rope.
We trade packs wordlessly.
A cheaply made rope hammock, a thin blanket, and an empty water canteen.
Pretty much what I expected.
We hang the hammock on the branches below us, set out the blanket and climb in.
The hammock swings, causing a few leaves to flutter to the ground far below.
It's extremely uncomfortable, but Willow doesn't complain, and I don't either. We say goodnight, and then lay next to each other, wide awake, for about half an hour. I can tell we're both thinking of what lies ahead.

I wake before Willow. I'm disoriented for a moment, then I remember why I'm here.
The sun is just peeking over the horizon, painting the sky fiery colors. Golden light filters through the trees. The forest is much more friendly, now. Bright and charismatic.
I try to climb out without waking Willow. She groans and rolls over. Again, she's not much of a morning person.
After running my fingers through my hair and pulling it into a low ponytail, I decide to collect what little plants I can identify, and then I find myself looking for bird nests. Pretty soon, I begin to rob a bluebird's nest, which I feel slightly bad about, but it's easy breakfast. I cook them over a fire I build with the pan, and eventually we have breakfast. I eat my breakfast alone, and wait for Willow to awake. Eventually I hear slight groaning and a curse underneath her breath when she realizes where she is.
I watch her sit up and rub her eyes.
"You should probably comb that hair. I mean, yikes."
"Oh shut up."
"Ooooh. Temper. I should take your breakfast away."
She stops.
"Oh. Thank you."
She comes down and eats breakfast quietly. She ties her hair up into a messy bun, yawning.
"Did you notice the little symbol carved into the locket? I have a crescent moon."
She was probably looking at it as she tried to fall asleep last night.
I look down. A tiny sun is carved in mine, with swirling lines of light around it. I tell her this, and she nods, as if understanding something.

After breakfast, I go off to look for water, and Willow searches for the perfect branch for a bow.
I hear water and begin to move towards it. The water is crystal clear, tumbling over mossy rocks. This will also be a good place to hunt.
Suddenly, I hear a blood-curdling scream break into my thoughts.
Willow.