Pluck (The Woodswalker Novels)

by Emilia S. Morrow

  Heading Somewhere

  “She is awake.”

  Came an unknown voice from the dark. She was not sure if the voice was male or female. It sounded withered, like a whisper in a hospital gown.

  “Oh good, finally,” he said. Briar heard movement in the dark. The softly glowing eyes of the fox appeared in front of her. “This bear was kind enough to let me drag you into it’s den when you collapsed.”

  No wonder her back felt scraped up like she pissed off a particularly large cat. She wondered which skin he used to drag her away. Either one seemed pretty comical at the moment.

  “Thank you for your hospitality,” Briar said, despite the uncomfortably damp stone floor she was cramped on. “What’s your name?” She asked the bear.

  “Don’t have one.” The bear snorted from somewhere deeper in the cave. “That’s for you one skins to use.” The fox gasped quietly. Briar wondered if she should be offended.

  “Well, thank you anyway bear.” She said. The bear laughed. She wasn’t sure what was so funny.

  “One skin is basically a slur,” the fox whispered in her ear. “Just so you know.”

  “What are you two youngsters running from anyway?” The bear asked, ignoring the annoyed growls.

  “A barred owl.” The fox said.

  “That’s it?” the bear snorted. “Of all the things that live here you get in serious trouble with a big bird?”

  “He kidnapped me,” Eric said with an edge to his voice, “and another woman too.”

  The bear shifted his attention to Briar.

  “And you? Are you kidnapped?” he asked.

  Shame burned across her cheeks. Maybe she would feel less guilty if she had been physically forced. She was glad they could not see her shaking.

  “He told me that a council of elders would not let me leave the forest,” she said.

  The bear snorted. “Council of elders? If such a thing existed I would be on it. I’m older than you and your parents put together.”

  “Do you remember the great migration?” The fox said. “My grandfather claims he does but he doesn’t want to talk about it.”

  “Of course I remember it.” The bear wheezed. “I’m not going to discuss it with the one skin here.”

  “Briar,” she said. “My name is Briar.”

  “Of course I remember it.” The bear repeated in the same tone. “I’m not going to discuss it with the Briar here.”

  “Thanks,” she groaned.

  “You two are very thin. I will go get you some food before you go or you will not make it far.” The bear announced.

  “Thank you,” she said more genuinely this time “We really appreciate it.”

  “I don’t want your corpses stinking up the place,” the bear huffed.

  She could feel the air around her change, the already thick air growing thicker. She felt the brush of the bears ragged fur as it pushed past her to exit the cave. When the bear was finally gone she breathed deep.

  “Are we safe here?” she asked, shuffling to sit up. She felt better than before, but her limbs still felt raw. At least she did not feel like she was going to faint again.

  “Why, because he is a predator?” The fox said. “You are a predator. I am a predator.”

  Briar blushed in the dark. She felt like a racist grandfather at a thanksgiving dinner.

  “Well bears eat humans sometimes, foxes don’t.” She pointed out awkwardly.

  “We are fine here,” he said, but something about his voice was uncertain. She can feel it wavering in the air around them. She shuffled closer to him in the dark. She could sense his hesitation. It made her more nervous than before.

  She found her stuff in the dark after a few awkward grasps around the foxes personal space. She clicked on the small lantern to illuminate the cave. She was blinded by the lights.

  The cave ceiling was low above them, filled with roots and rock formations. They must not be very deep underground. The cave goes further in either direction than she can see. Somewhere deeper, an underwater spring gurgled softly.

  The fox boy was laying next to her. He cringed at the light of the lantern. His eyes were red around the edges. She wondered if he had been crying. He rolled over to lay on his side. She watched him breathing for a moment. She clicked off the light and they sat in silence. She reached out a shaky hand to rest on his shoulder. He does not say anything, but his muscles relax under her touch.

  ***

  The bear growled from outside the cave. The fox boy crawled his way towards the sound. She clicked back on the lantern. When he arrived back he was carrying two large fish. Briar's stomach growled so loudly it bounced off the den walls. Big, raw fish have never made her mouth water this much before. Or ever, really.

  The bear followed with his own fish in his mouth. Briar wondered how the bear managed to carry all those fish back here. Or why it bothered to bring the fish back instead of eating it where it caught it. She guessed it was just universally polite to eat with your house guests.

  Briar waited for someone to start a fire, to gut a fish. The bear began to tear into its own meal. The fox boy removed his clothes and went back into his old skin. He began to tear at the flesh with his pointy teeth. A nifty tool, Briar thought.

  As they enjoyed their meals she stared down at her own. People eat sashimi all the time, right? Her stomach growled in protest of her hesitation. She lifted the fish to her lips and took a tentative bite. Her teeth could not make a decent mark on its flesh. She was scared she was going to break her brittle teeth.

  She reached for her pack and pulled out the hunting knife she had stolen from the owl. She began to hack away at the fish until she had meat chunks she could fit in her mouth. The taste was not horrible. What bothered her more was the visual. The fox lifted its eyes to look into hers for a moment, before continuing his meal. She knew it was impossible, but she could swear he was smiling at her struggle.

  When she could no longer fit anymore fish in her stomach she pulled away. The fox turned to look at the bear as if they had called for him. They did not outwardly communicate, but the fox nodded. For a small moment, she felt a part of it. It was a strange sensation, like a tingle in her fingertips. She turned and nodded at the bear in thanks, and it nodded back. Briar grabbed the foxes clothes, her pack, and followed him out of the cavern.

  As they left the cave the light assaulted their eyes. She groaned and shut them. There was a big difference between her lantern and the real deal. The entrance to the cavern was barely noticeable through the thick expanse of greenery surrounding it. All sorts of mosses and wildflowers coat the floor.

  The fox slipped back into his borrowed skin. Briar stumbled to hand him back his clothes. The difference between the fox and owl was immense. It felt as if he was an owl in human skin, all instinct and calculation. The fox felt like a human in fox skin, more in tune with himself as a person. She wondered what the difference really was.

  No matter what he said back in the cave, he seemed relieved to be away from the bear. His hands were shaking as he pulled the hem of his sweater back down. She had a feeling he was pretending to be more worldly than he was.

  “Shouldn’t we wait for dark?” she asked. After a month of moonlight and sunsets she felt raw in the brilliant sunlight. She would kill for a coffee right about now.

  “You mean when the owl will be awake and looking for us?” he asked. She agreed. It was a little stupid.

  ***

  The landscape felt monotonous after a few hours of walking. With every step they had yet to take she could feel herself closer and closer to him. Her feet felt like heavy slugs she could not control.

  “I feel like we won’t make it.” she whispered to herself. The fox boy stopped walking ahead of her.

  “We will make it, or we won’t,” he said with a shrug. “So what if we are killed, was it better to be stuck there?”

  He did have a point. But it was the same kind of point that an asshole would make.

  “I
don’t think he will kill me. I’m his mate.” she admitted finally, her skin burning to the touch. It felt like a dirty word. Mate.

  “I know, I heard,” he said. Her face contorted in horror. She was mortified.

  “I didn’t know you were down there at the time!” she complained, covering her face. Her cheeks were so hot she was convinced they would melt right off.

  “You may be his mate, but you are not his,” the fox boy said. “He knew what he was doing when it happened. We don’t work that way and he knows it.”

  We? She thought.

  “Before this I was living as a person in town. Fulltime,” he finally admitted. Briar had a suspicion. All of this talk about getting her out of the forest and he did not live in it.

  “So you do have a name!” She realized suddenly, annoyed. The fox boy looked away, biting his lips.

  “You never asked,” he said.

  “I assumed you wouldn’t have one, just like most of the others I’ve met.”

  “Okay yes, I do. It’s..” He looked away, mumbling under his breath.

  “What?” she asked, stopping in front of him.

  “It’s Eric,” he said.

  “Why’d you lie about that?” she asked with a smile. “It’s a perfectly good name.”

  “I’m just some kid from Little River who happens to be a fox sometimes. But the truth is I barely use that form. I wanted you to think I was cool,” he said.

  “Cool? That’s kind of low priority in the grand scheme of things don’t you think?” she asked. She rubbed her hot cheeks.

  “Yeah I guess,” he admitted. He was avoiding her eyes.

  “So you are officially missing too? People must be worried sick.” Briar asked, trying to change the subject so he wouldn’t be embarrassed. He nodded.

  “So do you actually know where we are going?” She asked, stopping in front of him.

  “I do come here with my family every year,” he said. She wondered if his family and Aster’s have ever crossed paths.

  “In a tent, or in your fur?” She asked.

  She imagined a family of four packing up the minivan and going out to the mountains, only to park the car in town and run around as foxes all week. He scowled at her.

  “Both?” he said. It was hard to know what not to talk about with him.

  “How old are you, in human time?” She really has no idea how aging works with them. Was Pepper destined to only live for the two years rats live, or was she going to have a human lifespan?

  “What do you mean?” She was not making herself clear.

  “If you live in town, how old do people think you are?” The fox boy thought for a moment. He still didn't really understand.

  “Nineteen,” he said. “That is how old I am?”

  Briar nodded. People were definitely looking for him. She still wasn’t sure how it worked, but it’s rude to straight up ask people how long they were going to live.

  They continue walking along in silence. She felt the questions bubbling in her throat. There was so much to know if she just knew what words to say.

  “Do you have a social security card?” She asked. He turned to look at her again, an annoyed scowl on his face.

  “I was born in a hospital just like you.” He continued walking ahead.

  Briar stopped in her tracks, more confused than ever. The magical fox boy was born in a hospital. They just don’t give you a manual for how to interact with mystical creatures when they announce themselves to you.

  “I’m sorry?” She questioned, struggling to keep up with him. The owl had said he was born an owl, so she had assumed he was born a fox kit. But maybe there is more to it.

  They come across a stream. The water was slow moving, meandering amongst smooth rocks. It cut along their path, going off in either direction. There were thick brambles and wildflowers along the bed of the creek. Damselflies and small metallic bees flitted their way through the flowers.

  Fox boy looked back at her in excitement. He seemed satisfied with himself.

  “Okay, we are definitely heading somewhere,” he announced triumphantly. Briar laughed. Somewhere was what they were putting their hopes in. They leaned down to drink some of the water. It felt like a shot of espresso to her system.

  They got back to their feet. He looked back and forth along the stream, scratching his head. He pointed down the left side. “We will follow the stream from now on.” They were going with the flow of the stream, which will eventually go down the mountain side.

  He moved to the middle of the creek and began walking it. Briar attempted to follow. After a few feet of walking her toes already felt numb. She tried to focus on one foot after the other. Eventually, they could stop. She just needs to keep going. This way they will not make any obvious tracks for a while. If he followed tracks, that is. For all she knew he could hear them even now.

  As they disturbed the water all sorts of little things scurried out of their way. Small fish, pond skaters, and crayfish all zoomed about in terror amongst the smooth river rocks. Every once in a while a shiny rock in the water caught her eyes. After a few feet of this she swung her bag around to throw the wet rocks in her pack. While she was there she took the hunting knife out of her pack and stuffed it in her pants. It still smelled like fish guts.

  If she ignored the horrible situation they were in, it was a beautiful hike. At the moment the terrain was relatively flat, and the stream relatively calm. It would not stay like this, so she savored this calm moment.

  As they continued down the stream the water went from ankle deep to mid leg. It chilled their very bones. She wondered if she should be concerned, not having another pair of clothes to change into after this.

  As the water got deeper the current started pushing them further. At some points they had to veer off to sides or walk from boulder to boulder. The rapids became swift enough that they needed to start walking along the shore once more.

  Each step let out a sloppy wet sound from Briar’s shoes. She was uncomfortable, but grateful to have them. Poor Eric was still barefoot. The sun was only an hour or so from setting. They were shaking as they walked, a trail of water following them on their journey.

  “We should find somewhere to shelter.” he said, teeth chattering. He was lucky, he just needed to crawl back into his old skin to get warm. She agreed. They continued on following the now fast moving stream, looking around for any place they could crawl in to hide.

  “Where is a bear when you need one?” She joked to herself as they trudged along. Although if she had a say, she would never willingly go into a bear’s den again. Eric cringed. They continue in silence, scanning the surrounding trees.

  “I could try and dig us a den.” Eric offered, but his thin frame was shaking.

  “Have you made one before?” Briar asked carefully.

  From what she could remember, they only made dens when they had children. Eric does not turn to face her, the tops of his ears turning a dark scarlet.

  Without a word he began to disrobe. Briar tried to be polite and look away, but his back was to her and she could not help it. She watched as his back twisted and sprouted the deep red fur of his original skin. His lithe form disappeared quickly through the underbrush.

  As Soothing as a Naked Man

  “I found one,” Eric announced.

  He came out from behind a tree with his hands protecting his privacy. She quickly threw his clothes. He only put on his pants, cringing at the feeling of wet clothes. Without his sweater covering his waist it was clear how much the fabric struggled to stay on his boney hips.

  They follow an unseen trail through the thick forest that demanded all of their attention to not trip. It all looked the same to her, but at this point she was through with attempting to decode the messages of the forest. The forest could jump off of a bridge for all she cared.

  She kept herself up against his back, trying to take every step he took. She was following so closely that she did not have time to react as he stopped moving
. She slammed into his back, tripping backwards into the sharp underbrush.

  He looked down at her with a bemused expression. “We are here.” He announced as he reached down to pull her back to her feet.

  The dense vegetation thinned out momentarily. The den was little more than a hole in the ground, barely wider than Briar’s shoulders. Although she was much thinner now than she was at the start of her trip, it seemed an impossibility that she could get inside it.

  “I don’t think I’m going to fit in there,” Briar said.

  “It’s bigger than you think down there,” he said with a tired grin.

  Although he had said he had found it, the fresh clumps of dirt around the entrance said otherwise. He crouched down next to the entrance before thinking better of it.

  “Our clothes will never dry right if we wear them in there,” he said. She agreed, but refused to do so all the same. He walked behind a nearby tree and hung his clothes up to dry.

  “Well, I don’t want you staring down my ass. You first,” he announced. His tone was light, but when Briar turned to look at him he was nervously scanning the forest around them.

  “Alright.” Briar attempted to sound casual. She got down on her knees in front of the dark cut in the earth.

  She could feel the earth all around her, whispering to her. She focused on one moment at a time, trying to stall the panic in her bones. All she could wonder is how this soft earth could hold its shape around her.

  The tunnel widened out before her. She stopped once her arms reached the back wall of the den. She carefully lifted herself up to sit. Surprisingly her head did not hit the ceiling, although there was not much room above it. Although it was larger than she would expect, it was still too close around her comfort.

  Dirt coats her exposed flesh as the fox crawls down the tunnel to join her. She wondered if this was how corpses felt when people walked over their graves. She hoped she would be cremated.

  “It’s not so bad down here, right?” he said. He spat out a glob of dirt and saliva as he birthed from the tunnel's end.