Pluck (The Woodswalker Novels)

by Emilia S. Morrow

  Without a sound he shot off into the darkness outside the cabin walls.

  ***

  Briar had already looked through his belongings a few times already for various reasons. Mostly, she was very bored and very nosy. He did have some camping supplies in random piles around his cabin. This would have been wonderful, if it wasn’t for the fact that almost all of it was broken. He had broken lanterns, broken tarps, bent tent poles, ripped hiking packs.

  If at least one of everything was not broken she could have left that same night and spent weeks out in the forest. Of course, the only thing she found that worked was a small lantern. She packed away the small lantern and a few pieces of tarp before continuing her search.

  There were a few things she thought might have been useful, but would be too obvious to take with her. She could not squirrel away their grill, or anything larger. Most of the things in his possession he had never touched as she had been living there, unless it was for her benefit. But something told her he would notice if they were missing.

  As she waded through his belongings the thought bothered her further. Why did he even own a hot plate if he did not eat cooked food? Why own plates? Why own clothes? He had said himself that he did not live in his human skin before her.

  The thought came to her all at once, causing her to stumble backwards. What if all of this was for her? What are the odds that she happened to be rescued by a mythical creature who was fully prepared to bring a human home?

  Briar thought back to what Pepper had told her about owl behavior. What had she called it? Nesting. He had prepared a nest for her.

  Not only did he prepare one nest, but two.

  She laid herself down on the floorboards, her eyes roving over all of the towering piles of supplies. She flipped onto her stomach, pressing her aching forehead against the cold wood. Through the slim cracks she can just barely see the soft glow of the fox’s eyes below.

  “I’m really scared.” Briar admitted. A solid thump responded.

  ***

  She had expected to spend the day gathering more supplies again but she awoke feeling pessimistic. The previous day's search did not do much to get her further prepared to leave.

  Briar filled her night with practicing walking outside. She took things slow, one foot after the other until she had circled the cabin a few dozen times. It was boring as hell, but she was feeling antsy. She almost felt like she was at the cusp of something. She needed to prepare.

  The bottom of her feet were sore but her legs felt stronger. She was surprised by how long he had taken while hunting. Usually by now he was already back, and already taking more affection than she wanted to give. She went back inside with the intention of reading in bed. She hadn’t realized she had fallen asleep until she awoke to him entering the cabin.

  “I’m sorry, did I wake you?” he asked. He was in a good mood again. Briar shook her head. The cabin was still dark. She hadn’t bothered to turn on the lantern.

  “Oh it’s okay,” Briar said. “Welcome home.”

  “The hunting was slim today,” he commented. Her stomach twisted in knots, eager to be full again.

  “I know you try hard,” she said, watching his back tense.

  “It’s not easy catching enough prey for the both of us,” he said.

  Briar wondered if that was why he did not bring much food. He always had to feed three people, first the girl, then the fox when she escaped. Or maybe, he just wanted her weak. She pushed the thoughts away, worried they would sour her face.

  “Maybe we could have a garden,” Briar said. “That way I can grow some of my own food.”

  He did not comment on her idea. He walked over to the table in the dark. The familiar sounds of food prep lulled her. Her stomach rumbled loudly. Soon the smell of cooked flesh filled the cabin.

  “Maybe soon we could go to the lake again,” she said. He turned to look at her without comment. Her chest tightened with anxiety.

  “Thank you,” she said as he passed her the plate.

  There wasn’t much meat on the one rat he did manage to catch. She devoured it quickly, each bite rushed to fill the void in her stomach. He came to lay down next to her in bed. He seemed content to just lay with her this night.

  “Maybe sometime soon,” he said.

  He turned to sleep. He did not kiss her.

  The hushed tones of dawn made their way through the cabin. But Briar cannot sleep. There was something quaking inside her, something that sharpened her edges until she felt raw and wrong. Something was wrong.

  She got up and stretched out her limbs. Her leg felt almost normal now. She began to walk across the cabin to the bathroom, pausing when she noticed something out of the corner of her eye.

  She slowly walked over to the table. She felt shaky and ill put together. Amongst the blood and guts laid out upon the table was a patch of white fur. She reached out a hand to touch it, stopping just before.

  Briar rushed to the bathroom, vomiting up bits of her friend into the toilet.

  Staying Forever

  It took a lot of convincing to get him to leave the following night. She had spent all of the previous morning curled up on the floor of the bathroom. She was afraid if she went back to bed with him, she would lose all pretense and attempt to claw his fluorescent eyes out.

  “What’s wrong?” he asked.

  His bright eyes were wide as he fell to her side. His hands cradled her stomach. Briar looked away, too disgusted to pretend everything was fine. Her stomach still boiled beneath his hands.

  “I’m fine,” she said.

  Truly, she did mean it. Pepper was dead, rotting away in an antiquated septic system. The fox was caged below their very feet. The other missing girl was caught.

  Briar was alive, and in a much bigger cage.

  “I’ll stay here tonight. I won’t leave you,” he said softly. Her heart thumped faster in response.

  “I need food. I need water. I need space.” she said in quick succession. She concentrated on the floor in front of her instead of the worried man above. Out of the corner of her eye she saw him deflate.

  “I’m really worried about you lately,” he confided, closing the distance between them. His hands found their way around her waist. “You’ve been distant.”

  “I’ve just been really homesick lately. Please don’t take offense, it’s not you.” she said. “I’m sorry I keep pulling away.”

  “Can I do anything to help with that?” He asked.

  His fingers trailed up and down her sides. Her heart thumped in her chest. Here was her opportunity to get him far out of the house. Her mind churned.

  “I’ll let you know soon, that would be wonderful.”

  She leaned in closer, wrapping her arms around his neck. If only she had the courage to squeeze. Instead, she leaned in to kiss him.

  “As for tonight, I really do need food,” she said softly.

  “Of course. Any special requests?” he asked.

  “Whatever you can catch is fine with me,” she said.

  “I’ll be back soon,” he said finally, emphasis on soon.

  He raced out of the bathroom, slipping into his feathers before the door swung closed behind him. She picked herself up off the rough floor.

  Pepper’s skin was still laid out on the table. Since Briar had left her guts had been thrown outside, but her skin still remained. Briar ran her hand over her stark fur. Usually the parts would all be discarded so she wouldn’t have to look at them.

  Did he know?

  Did he taunt her with the corpse of her only friend left to her?

  ***

  Briar awoke before nightfall. She kept herself still, only moving her eyes to look around the cabin. Tonight was the night. She knew she should be frightened, but there was nothing she could do about it. The fox needed to leave more than her. She was lounging in this fantastical cabin, with more or less freedom. She was in no position to be afraid. It was not her life in jeopardy. At least, not directly.

>   When he stirred she wrapped her arms around him. It was time to lay it on thick. He seemed surprised.

  “Well someone is feeling better today,” he said. He smiled, leaning in to kiss her deeply. She pulled away with a perky smile. Her insides crawled.

  “I know exactly how you can make me feel more at home,” She trailed a finger down his smooth chest. He leaned in to place another kiss on each cheek.

  “Anything for you,” he said.

  His voice was so sincere, so full of warmth. She was tempted to ask him to slit his wrists. Maybe then she would stay.

  Briar crossed the room, making sure to walk slowly and calmly. She can feel his eyes on her back, searing. She went over to her hiking pack, hoping he did not realize it had grown in size. She carefully opened the side pocket and pulled out her list.

  She turned around to find him standing in front of her. The hairs on the back of her neck rose. She hadn’t heard him move an inch.

  “If I had these things, I wouldn’t mind staying forever.” she said carefully. Her hands shook as she handed him the folded paper list.

  At the time, it was what she needed. Now, looking over a list so small and so materialistic made her think she deserved whatever fate she had. There were so many things she did not write. He unfolded the note, looking over it carefully. She wondered at that moment if he could read. Her cheeks blushed heavily. To her surprise, he looked up and nodded.

  “If this is what you need to be comfortable, I’ll find them all.” he said, a soft smile on his lips. She wished more than anything that it would still make her happy.

  “Thank you,” she said. He took her in his arms for a short but tender hug.

  “It will take me awhile to find it all in town. And it might be hard to bring back in one go. It would take a while.” he said as they pulled apart.

  “It will be worth it,” she soothed, taking her hand in his. Briar brought it up to her lips for a kiss. She could still smell Pepper’s flesh on his hands.

  “Well I should head out,” he said. He pulled his cold hand out of her grip.

  “Already?” she asked. She tried to stop herself from smiling.

  “The sooner I finish the sooner this will be your home,” he said.

  When he left she slowly got up from the bed without the lantern on. She closed her eyes and focused on slowing her breathing. It was no time to panic. It was time to work. She quietly grabbed her pack and placed it by the door, along with her crutches. She wasn’t sure if she was going to bring them.

  She carefully opened the door, breathing a sigh of relief when the clearing was empty before her. She took a moment to watch the dark clouds wipe out the stars. There would not be time later to breathe this calmly.

  She slipped quickly through the entrance, causing the fox to let out an excited yip. He was rocking his cage back and forth. She hurried to his side. Briar could hear the clatter of small bones against the bars of the cage. Past meals haunted his only living space.

  “It’s time. Shut up,” she whispered. She crawled over to the cage, ripping it open without hesitation. The fox ran out into his other skin, an excited glint in his eyes.

  “Fuck yeah,” he whispered, stretching out his tired limbs. As he pulled himself together she took one last look around the basement.

  Briar grasped a shovel discarded at the far end of the basement. She smashed the cage from the inside out, scattering bones across the stale floor. Every swing of the shovel lets out a furious grunt. She hoped it would give them more time if he thought the fox had escaped on its own.

  “If he catches us again there won’t be anywhere for me to go,” he said quietly. He watched his former confinement smash, metal on metal.

  Briar threw the shovel down, panting. “If he catches us he won’t bring us back,” she said. “He didn’t bring the other one back.”

  He was weaker than she had thought he would be. His anger had withered away, leaving only malnutrition. Briar pulled herself up first so she could pull him up by his bony wrists. His limbs were awkward like a startled fawn.

  She decided to take her crutches with her. She would rather have them and abandon them in the forest later than get a few hours in and realize she needed them. There was no going back. She mourned the life she could have had, if only for a moment.

  As she stepped out past the porch she realized she did not know which way to go. She knew from his flight patterns what direction town was. But she cannot possibly walk to town quicker than he can fly.

  “So where are we going?” the thin boy asked.

  He had raided the clothes pile right away. He was wearing a thick sweater and a pair of jeans. She wondered if it was for her benefit. She did not question him coming with her. She was glad for the company. It felt more like a friendly hike than a run for their lives.

  “Town is that way, as the owl flies,” Briar said. She pointed off to the right, mildly satisfied with her joke. “But I sent him off to town today, so we can’t go there.”

  “I know more or less where the nearest trail is. If we follow that in one direction or another, eventually we will find people. Actual people,” he said. She was glad he made the distinction.

  “More or less?” she asked.

  “Less.” He admitted with a smile. “You are pretty far outside the boundary of the park. What other option do we have?”

  Briar looked back at the direction of town. There definitely wasn’t another option. She nodded.

  “Lead the way then,” she said.

  They began making their way through the forest. They were vaguely going in the direction that she went to see the fireflies. It took him hours to take her there and they had not run into any trail. So they had a long walk ahead of them.

  It was slow going. The underbrush was thick in spots, the incline was steep, the trees were unruly. The only light they had was the stars, every change in elevation threatened to send them off the mountain. Her stolen lantern lay stowed away in her pack, afraid it would give away their position. With her crutches holding most of her weight she was able to walk relatively quickly. The fox boy walked patiently behind her, only occasionally pointing her in the right direction.

  ***

  As the sun crept above the trees the forest still looked much the same. They had gained quite a distance between the cabin and themselves. There was even a possibility he had not discovered them gone yet. Even if he did, he might not know which direction to search in at first. Thinking all these thoughts did not stop Briar from jumping at every bird call, from looking behind her at every crunch of leaves.

  “Are you sure you know where we are going?” she asked, her voice rising in tone.

  “We are going the right way,” he said after a few seconds.

  His hesitation startled her. She shook her head, frightened. She could feel it on the edge of her consciousness, the same distortion she felt when she stepped off the trail to pee. She wasn’t sure if she was imagining it. She was so exhausted.

  “I thought I was going the right way too,” she murmured.

  The fox boy reached out a timid hand and patted the top of her head like one pets a dog. The gesture was so strange she laughed. He laughed along, the tension leaving his body. When she finally stopped laughing she felt better.

  It was getting harder to drag her weak feet ahead of her. The mountain was very steep now. He was worried she would fall backwards over the edge. If she did, she would just keep tumbling down until she became a lump of blood and flesh.

  The terrain leveled out enough that they can take a break. They stop to sit down under a large pine. By now the sun was directly overhead. It was hard to hide from the heat. The pine offered no refuge from it. Briar could feel her cheeks cooking under its gaze.

  “Did you pack any food?” the fox asked.

  “Oh sure, I raided the mini fridge on the way out.” Briar snapped.

  Her whole body felt strange. Heat rolled down her back in waves. She tried to settle into a more comfortable po
sition but there just isn’t one. The fox boy apologized hastily.

  They began to stand up to leave, but Briar did not make it another step. Her vision became fuzzy around the edges until her whole world was soft. She collapsed amongst the pine needles.

  ***

  When she came to she could feel the tight spaces all around her. As far as she could reach was smooth stone. The ceiling must have been just passed her finger tips. She can sense the mountain above her. It was an unnerving idea. When she and Aster drive through these mountains Briar has to close her eyes when they reach a tunnel. This was much worse. At least the tunnels had warning signs before them.

  Briar could not hear. Was she back under the waterfall, behind the locked door? Was she dead? It was pitch black. The air was stale here. It was hard to move the thick air in and out of her lungs. Briar was freaking out. She let out a quiet sob.

  From somewhere deeper in the cave came the unmistakable growl of a bear. Being a moderately competent camper she knew this sound as the sound of get the fuck out. In the dark she did not know if it was a grizzly or a black bear. But at this point no technique would be better than to get out of there.

  Briar screamed, her arms going up to protect her face. So not exactly getting out there. There is a difference between knowing what to do and actually being able to do it.

  “Shut the fuck up. I’m trying to sleep,” the fox called out from somewhere in the pitch black. It did not register in her brain fast enough that that meant it was probably nothing to fear.

  “There is a bear!” Briar cried out, attempting to scramble up. Her limbs were on fire. If she had to run, in the dark, on her broken leg and with jelly limbs her ass was going to be eaten by a bear.

  “And here is a fox. Go back to sleep,” he said. She realized she could see the faint glow of the bear eyes in the dark. The bear was one of them. It did not make a move to come closer, and after a while it closed its eyes so she could no longer see it.

  She wanted to stay up and ask questions, but something told her they needed their rest. Going against all her previous wisdom she laid her head back on the smooth stone floor. Her terror faded and she drifted back to sleep.