“He didn’t seem to want to. So I told him I knew about one-skin women and how to please them,” he said as if she hadn’t spoken.
There was pride in his voice for having come up with a reason to live. Briar wondered what she would say if she was in the same situation. It may not be such a crazy situation to prepare for, she thought.
Although it was a serious situation Briar could not help but laugh. “Do you?” She teased. The fox blushed his warm skin a deeper crimson.
“Not really,” he admitted.
The Moth on the Ceiling
Her dreams weighed her down into the pile of skins.
Briar followed the white rat down a slick forest path. She begged her to stop, to join her in her human skin. Pepper ran faster. Her dread grew further as they twisted through thicker and thicker foliage.
Suddenly she was no longer following the white rat down a trail. She was in her old apartment, dark beige colored walls and all. Just as she settled into her uncomfortable loveseat, a sound in the other room caught her attention.
“Aster?” Briar called out.
It sounded like boots coming down a river stone driveway, or sea shells rubbing together in a child’s collection bucket. Briar followed the sound to the closed bathroom door. She twisted the knob with quiet dread.
A skeleton lay crooked and cramped in her tiny bathtub. Pepper crawled out of the shivering bone mouth. Briar wondered if she should draw them a hot bath. They seemed cold.
“Aster moved out, remember?” the small rat said in her human voice. Briar kneeled down before her friend. The rat lunged to bite her face.
She awoke disoriented, the dream evaporating before she could commit it to memory. Briar was left with the frustration of knowing she dreamed of something important, but having no idea what she thought was so important about it. She laid for a moment, wiping the sweat from her clammy body. Her arm was freshly sore.
Another rock soared across the cabin to bounce off of her outstretched leg. Someone wanted her attention.
She carefully crossed to the back of the cabin, every stumble making her heart strain with anxiety. Through the jagged expanse that once held glass Briar could make out the source of the rock.
Pepper sat crouched on the transition between wild and manicured. Her wrist snapped back, hurtling a larger stone past Briars ear to crash into a lantern. Briar cursed, clutching the skin where the rock has just barely grazed her. Her fingers came away stained a bright red.
Briar hurried, or whatever counted as hurrying with how inferior her leg was now. She tried to avoid looking at the waiting mouth of the basement as she passed. Pepper was further back in the woods, only her soft glow visible as she rounded the corner. Briar wanted to call out to her but something held her tongue.
As Briar entered the shadows of the canopy Pepper turned away to hurry. She seemed to be following a small path in the undergrowth that Briar can only vaguely follow in the dark. She stole one more look at the cabin receding into the darkness before hurrying along. The glowing woman reached out a small hand for her to grasp.
Briar snapped out of her trance as another pair of glowing eyes appeared ahead. Pepper let go of her hand, holding it up to stop Briar from approaching. Barely visible against the slick darkness of the sky was a bundle of stretched skin.
The new woodswalker let out a nervous chitter. She realized then why they had come. A bat, come to speak about her lover.
The small shape before them bubbled, growing into a mass of darkness that made even the bold woodswalker take a step back. The form that materialized in front of them was beautiful, but feral. Her dark hair spun in tight curls in a large halo around her face.
“Hello,” the new woman murmured, looking anywhere but down at Briar. In the dark the whites of her eyes were bright and frightening.
“Hello,” Briar repeated, her voice wavering. “Thank you for coming.”
“Please tell her what you told me.” Pepper encouraged, her hand lightly grazing the woman's shaking shoulder.
“You are not the first woman he has taken there,” she admitted, looking down at her own feet. Relief washed over her. That she can handle. That was a normal world problem, an average boyfriend problem.
“That’s it?” She asked, looking over at her friend. Pepper poked the other woman in the ribs.
“It was after you came to these woods,” the woman said finally.
“How do you know when I came here?” Briar asked.
The woman gave her a peculiar look.
“She did not just stay one night like you did. She was there a long time before she got out,” she continued as if Briar had not spoken.
Briar wasn’t sure if she heard her right. The words passed through her like water through clenched fingers.
“Got out?” she asked. The woman finally looked up at her, fear evident in her deep brown eyes. She nodded her head once, finality.
“He always locked the door with her,” the bat said.
“Did he… get her back?” Briar asked.
“She did not return,” she whispered. “But he did get her back.”
Briar’s eyes darted to Pepper’s. All those weeks ago, when Pepper came to her because he was running through the forest. She had said he was angry. Angry enough that she was scared and wanted to check on her. That was the other girl.
“So she didn’t escape,” Briar said. She was too scared for beating around the bush. Her heart thumped loudly in her ears, swarming her head. She felt like she was going to collapse.
The woman took a few steps backwards, catching a stray ray of moonlight from the canopy above. Her dusky skin was speckled with deep black bruising. Briar could not stop thinking of the little boy in the cave. She wondered why they didn’t try and find a different one to live in. Then again, she didn’t exactly run the moment she realized something was wrong.
“No, she didn’t,” Pepper replied, watching the woman between them.
“He punished you for that, didn’t he?” Briar asked. The woman nodded rapidly. “Thank you so much for coming anyway.”
“You can’t stay much longer now,” Pepper insisted. “You got your information, you need to leave.”
The wind stirred above them with near silent wing beats. Before she could even think to move the woman was back in her old skin, flying away without a sound. Pepper looked back at her, reaching a shaking hand out to touch her before springing for the undergrowth.
And then, there was Briar, standing around like an idiot out in the open. She was not fit for espionage.
She willed her limbs to move, to get her back where she needed to be. Neither of them cooperate. Her chest tightened until she could not stand, for fear of collapsing. Her knees gave out, sending her to rest amongst the rotting leaves.
From the direction of the cabin she heard footsteps crunching through the undergrowth. He must have noticed she was not waiting for her dinner as she should be. The sounds of approach grow louder and more desperate.
“Briar!” he called out from somewhere over her shoulder. She could almost feel his eyes rove the forest for her. “There you are!” He rushed to her side. She braced for impact, tears leaking from her tightly closed eyelids.
He got on his knees behind her, rolling her onto her back. He gasped softly, reaching a hand to wipe away her tears. She felt nauseous being so close to him. She needed to breathe.
“What’s wrong?” he asked. “You had me worried sick I thought someone had stolen you.”
She sobbed louder, trying to turn away from him. His hands gripped her waist tighter. Stolen her. She had been stolen. It just took her a few months to realize.
“I’m having a panic attack,” she managed to say, her voice shrill. Might as well tell the truth about that much. He picked her up as one might pick up a doll.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, rocking her back and forth. Despite knowing better it did calm her down a little. If she closed her eyes maybe she could pretend it was not him doing th
e comforting. “What happened?”
“I ran out of water so I wanted to get it myself. I got lost, just like the first time,” she said with a heavy sob.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there to help you. I’ll take you back now.” He stood with her in his arms, carrying her slowly back towards the cabin.
His mouth found hers the moment they were back in the cabin. The tears in her eyes dried, shocked. She could hardly notice it happening, numb in mind and body. His hands slipped under her clothes uninvited.
What once brought her joy was now making her nauseous. She could hardly stand the weight of him above her. Her mind shrunk away, allowing him to do what he wanted. Her eyes looked past his head and to the ceiling, watching a moth crawl along the planks.
As she laid in bed she was aware of every move he made in his sleep. She was convinced that any moment now he would whisk her away behind some locked door. She was afraid of waking up somewhere else, deep under the earth. She kept her sore eyes open as long as she could.
He had to know exactly what they were talking about in the forest. He had reminded her before, his hearing was great. Especially if he was in his old skin, how could he have not heard them? It had to be a matter of time.
More than anything the thought would not leave her alone. She was not special. He did not choose her for love of her. This was not a beautiful romance. She may have started things but he was almost guaranteed to have started it if she had not.
The only difference between her and the girl in the cave is Briar could not run.
She ached for the other girl. What was her fate? Would Briar face the same? She carefully turned over. His arms reach out to grab her, pulling her to lay in the crook of his arms. He made no move to show he was aware.
***
The drop down onto the rough floor of the basement was more difficult now, as if the news she held pushed her further into the dirt. She lay panting on her hands and knees until the sting of impact lessened. She switched on the lantern around her neck.
As she approached the fox lifted his weary head, dimly lit eyes opening to slits. His cage was littered with small animal bones that rattled as he moved to walk through the now open cage. Despite their small size, the scent of death clung to the air. He pulled himself out of his old skin, slower than she had seen before. He was weak after all of the time spent there.
“So? Did your friend come back?” His voice was as rusty as the cage he was confined to. Briar struggled to put words together.
“Yes,” Briar said. He stared at her, one thick eyebrow raised. Briar did not continue. He sighed heavily.
“Well? What did they say?” he asked. Briar closed her eyes, willing the time before to stretch just a little longer. She shook her head. “No? They didn’t say anything or… Oh. I’m assuming it isn’t good news.”
“He was keeping another girl in his cave. She managed to pick the lock but from what I understood she didn’t get far.” She willed herself to speak. They stared across the distance.
“So we are fucked?” he blurted out.
“I guess so,” Briar said. It summed up her feelings quite well.
He laughed, a humorless chuckle that sent a shiver up Briar’s scalp. She wished she was more like Aster, more willing to be obnoxiously confident. She wanted to say they would be fine, or at least on the other side of this hell.
A hush fell over them.
“You know we have to try anyway. Even if our chances aren’t good we still have to try,” he said softly. “But for now you should get back up. You’ve been down here too long.”
Nesting
Despite how hard she tried he can feel the anger within her. She had not changed her behavior, at least not in ways she controlled. She still kissed him, she still allowed herself to be held. And yet, when he looked at her his brow creased in frustration.
There is something to be said about instincts.
He had decided she needed some space, despite how desperately she clung to him. So despite her behavior she was washing herself alone. He was further downstream, his back facing her. His idea of space was ten feet away, deeper into the creek where she could not go.
She scrubbed at her body as she watched him do the same. When she finally tore her eyes from his tense form she could see all the spots of grime she was neglecting. She hastily rubbed it all away until her skin was flushed raw.
Her face must have betrayed her thoughts.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized, but didn’t understand what he did. He hoped it was the right words to say, but it fell flat between them.
“I’m just homesick. It’s not your fault.”
She tried to turn some of her anger into sorrow. It didn’t quite make it all the way. There was a rough edge to her words she did not think was wise.
“That sounds a lot like my fault,” he said. Briar averted her eyes. There was too much pretending going on. At least let him feel the guilt.
“Well, it’s not particularly not your fault I guess,” she said carefully.
She wondered how different her life would have been if he emerged from the forest already in his human skin. At least then she would not have the sight. How different it might have been if he left her there to die.
“I’ll be back.”
He slowly emerged from the creek in front of her. He left a trail of wet stones until he disappeared altogether into the surrounding forest. She hoped he would trip on a stray root.
She savored the moments alone where she didn’t have to pretend. Briar wondered if somehow he felt the same. Her time alone seemed to shrink with every passing day. Either it was taking much less time for him to hunt now, or he hadn’t been spending all his time away hunting.
All too soon his heavy footsteps crunched across the pebbles behind her. She tried to fit a smile on her face.
“I’m sorry you aren’t feeling at home here,” he said. “I hope that soon you will be able to see this place as a home as well.”
His voice was his own, but something told her the words were of the fox. She realized that her actions had consequences. If he did not believe that his advice worked he would not need to keep the fox. If he did not believe that she forgave him there would be no reason to keep him around.
“I appreciate that,” she said quickly.
Briar rushed out of the water to embrace him. She hoped that he would mistake her panic for eagerness. She borrowed her head into his chest. The very air about them stilled, until all she could hear was the drip drip drip of the chilly water onto the stones beneath them.
She could not keep herself together. Every seam in her life was ripped out by callus hands. What was the point of holding herself together? She let it wash over her; the despair, the grief of lost love, the hatred. They all had a place at her table.
Briar wasn’t sure exactly what set her off.
Pepper emerged through one of the many cracks that lined the base of the cabin. She scrambled up her pile of furs to rest on Briar’s good knee with a nervous chitter. Briar was surprised to see her brave the predator’s den. It only made her cry harder.
“It isn’t safe here,” she blubbered, trying to shoo away her friend before she could shift. Pepper dodged her weak attempts, shifting quickly to lay beside her on the floor.
“Exactly. I need to get you out of this place,” she insisted. Her pink eyes shifted wildly around the cabin. She was overwhelmed by her instinct to flee.
“Wouldn’t you get in trouble?” she whispered.
“With who, the owl? He can’t hurt me if he can’t find me,” she stated confidently. Briar furrowed her brow.
“No, with the council,” Briar said.
“Excuse me?” Pepper leaned in closer.
“If you helped me leave here you would get in trouble with them too, right?” Briar said a little louder.
“Who told you that?” Pepper asked.
“I got an audience with one myself,” she said. “Look, I appreciate it but I wouldn’t want to jeopar
dize your home here.”
“What did they say specifically?” Pepper asked. Briar sat up straighter. Dread began to worm its way through her.
“That I had to stay here,” Briar said. Her voice trailed off until she was just above a whisper. “Because I knew the truth.”
Pepper pulled away entirely. Her unfocused eyes welled with tears. Briar was desperate to escape her pitying gaze.
“Oh honey,” Pepper said.
Which is to say, you poor stupid child.
Briar pulled further away. She was desperate for the silence before to stretch on for longer. The words Pepper had to say were running through Briar’s mind before she spoke them.
“There is no council.”
“I’m such an idiot,” she said to herself.
Briar was at a loss for words. She thought of her family, her life that she abandoned without proof. She gave herself so willingly for a few morsels of excitement and sexual deviancy.
“How were you supposed to know?” Pepper soothed. “This isn’t your world. You aren’t meant for it.”
“I guess I thought I could stay,” she murmured.
“Well now you know you don’t need to worry about that,” Pepper said. “You have only one man to escape.”
“Only,” Briar sniffled sarcastically.
“You’ll have me to help,” Her eyes glanced to the side.
Pepper suddenly snapped to attention, running into her true skin and across the cabin. Briar watched her hope disappear through a crack in the wall.
The owl flew through a darkened window frame, landing on a rotten crossbeam above. Normally he would join her in her humanity. This time he declined. His dark eyes widened and narrowed, his head swiveling around to survey the interior of the cabin.
Briar reached a hand up to rub her eyes, finding it visibly shaking. “Hello.”
His head swiveled, staring at the crack Pepper had disappeared through. He knew, she thought. All those days of sneaking to meet Pepper as he gathered her food were absolved of blame. She was right to be afraid.
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