Remi's Great Escape (Forestfolk Prequel)

Chapter 8a

After my second day of hiking toward the rising sun, I finally spotted something in the distance. It started as a wide shadow spanning half the horizon. As I got closer, I could make out the pointy tips of evergreens. A forest?

I'd heard stories of forests teaming with monsters and crazy people. When I was little and especially naughty, Ma would tell me she'd send the Forestfolk after me if I didn't behave.

"The Forestfolk?" I'd asked. "What are those?"

"They're half men, half monster, with fangs this big." She crooked two fingers next to her mouth to look like teeth. "They like to kidnap disobedient children and eat them."

I'd gaped at her and immediately picked up the toys I'd thrown around the hut.

I wondered now about the stories. How much of it was true? What would I find in that forest? The monsters there couldn't be any worse than the Plainsmen, could they?

Then again, nobody in my tribe ever tried to eat me.

I kept forging ahead. There was nothing out in these plains. Maybe I would have better luck among the trees. Though it hadn't been the most comfortable roost, I'd felt safe in the foliage.

I reached the outer rim of the forest by moonrise. No sign of monsters. To be safe, I climbed another tree and spent the night there. I woke up several times to unfamiliar sounds. The creepiest was the call of some creature I did not know.

"Whooo," it said.

And another one farther away would answer, "Who-ooo."

Maybe it was these Forestfolk creatures asking each other who I was. Did I enter their territory? Did they see me as a threat?

They didn't seem to be coming any closer, so I eventually relaxed and let the sound of crickets and other night bugs lull me to sleep.

I awoke to a chorus of more birds than I'd ever heard in my life. Screeches and squawks mixed with chirping songs. Surely a place haunted by monsters wouldn't be teeming with so much vibrant life?

I headed deeper into the forest, determined to find something. Maybe it would be monsters, maybe it would be people, or maybe it would be monster people. But behind all the scary stories that whirled around in my mind, I hoped I'd find something resembling a home.

Squirrels barked warnings as I approached, and I watched them leap from branch to branch. I even tried shooting some, but they were even harder to hit than rabbits. After breaking one of my precious arrows, I decided to stop trying.

The underbrush got thicker the deeper I went. I was thankful for the trousers that protected my legs. Berries gleamed from one of the bushes, and I ate them all. Even the sour ones tasted good. But there was still no sign of life bigger than a boar.

I forged on.

The next morning, as I was poking around for more berries, I heard the rustling of some creature. Something big.

I backed up against a tree trunk and readied my bow. If a monster was going to come eat me, it was going to encounter something sharp and painful first.

Grunting noises accompanied the heavy footsteps.

I pulled the string back, ready to let loose on whatever was going to attack me.

The steps paused. Leaves quivered.

My knuckles protruded as the fist around my bow tightened.

"Coulda sworn it was this way," a gruff voice mumbled.

Did someone just speak? The stories never said if the monsters could talk or not.

The gruff voice went on to growl menacingly.

My arm began to shake from the effort of holding the string back so long.

When the creature finally burst into view, I startled so badly that the arrow slipped out of my grasp.

Chunk. It sank into the bark by the man's head.

A man. It was a man, not a creature.

He glared at the arrow, then at me. "What in blazing buttocks is wrong with you?"

His hair was a shock of white, with gray and brown edges. Matching white whiskers sprouted along his jaw. His weathered face wrinkled into a scowl. He carried a gnarled walking stick, which he swiped at the offending arrow, snapping it in two.

I gawked at him.

"You're one of them Plainsmen whelps, aren't you?" A deep furrow etched his brow, like he'd spent his entire life glowering at everything.

Fear gripped my vocal cords.

"I didn't think it was possible for those tribal dimwits to get any dumber, but I guess I was wrong." He peered at me from under bushy, white eyebrows. I squirmed as he examined me from my shaggy, brown hair down to my dirty, bare feet. "You shrinking or something?"

His absurd question momentarily stilled my trembling. "Huh?"

"Ah, the whelp speaks." He nodded toward my legs. "Those trousers are bigger than you are."

I looked down at them. Pode's pants. I recalled my escape from him and all the oppression he represented. These were my pants now, I reminded myself. And my life was my own.

I lifted my chin and met the gruff man's eyes. "I am not one of them."

He stared at me a beat longer. "That so?"

I gave him a vehement nod, lips pressed together.

He rubbed his chin. "Well then, where you headed?"

I glanced at the trees around me, as if they held answers. Not finding any, I simply said, "Away from them."

He nodded like he was judging my answer for merit. "So, what now?"

I had no idea. No plan beyond staying alive.

I shrugged.

The man harrumphed and shook his head. "Youth nowadays. Never have a plan for anything."

I'd had a plan for escape, sort of. As it turned out, it just wasn't a very good one.

"If you aren't one of them, what are you?" His brown eyes studied me so intently, I thought maybe he could tell I was an Aberration. No way I was going to tell him that.

I picked up my last arrow from the fallen bundle on the ground. "I'm a hunter!"

He sniffed and looked pointedly at the broken arrow in the tree trunk. "Obviously."

My heart sank at the realization that I was down to one arrow. I looked down at it, at my laughable supplies.

The man did too. He sighed, shook his head again, and began walking away.

I watched the stranger go, not sure if I was sad or relieved at his departure.

Who is this strange, old man, any guesses? Any votes?