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wolfmansbro -> Unnamed [Insert Good Title Here] (3/18/2012 18:53:37)
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The link to the discussion is right here, feel free to discuss, and... Yea, just... Go discuss ._.
Chapter PI:
Pitter patter, pitter patter... The drops hit the padded mossy forest floor, rolled off the leaves, and shattered against the looming branches, Each minute droplet felt the ground in one way or another, whether it be from releasing the bottom of a bud it gripped so tightly, or breaking apart, and forming new droplets with other broken molecules, or perhaps just joining an existing drop. Eventually, they would soak into the ground, or splash into a lake, a puddle, or a river. It would eventually heat and evaporate, be drank by an animal, or be absorbed by the roots of the plants. But in the end, it will fall once more, repeating the never-ending cycle of the rain, falling, falling, falling. This particular rain, was hitting the rocks outside a small cave. Pitter patter, pitter patter.
It was indeed a small cave, with size seemingly diminished greater by the trees, their leaves blanketing the forest floor. The cave was a light brown in color, made of thick packed dirt and rock, the sort of cave you could only really notice amongst the trees if you were looking at it. The rain gleamed as it sat on the surface of the rocks, shining whenever some light found it’s way to touch it, for light scarcely penetrated enough thick leaves to reach the ground, it was not particularly pretty enough to stare at, but pretty in a bland way, a simple sample of nature, a look into the simple serene routine life of the forest.
The insides of the cave were similar to the outsides, although more rocks and roots were viewable from within. The cave was not without it's inhabitants, and the variety of those who dwelled in the cave was extreme. From small insects, such as pesky flies, big beetles, fuzzy brown spiders, ants, and more, to plant life, a couple tufts of grass, the occasional fern or two, and some ivy running up the wall by the entrance. The cave was also home to several mammals. There was a family of rabbits sheltered in the back of the cave, coming out occasionally to nibble on some nearby grass.
The other mammal in the cave was a wolf, a single lone wolf. The wolf was of a greyish color, however if one looked at it's soft flowing fur at the right time, the right angle, if the lighting was just right, they would swear this wolf was silver, a glowing, warming silver, a rich soft silver, like that of a fairy tale. Compared to the other wolves of this age, this wolf was on the smaller side, rather below the average weight of the other wolves, below the average length. The wolf's unnaturally blue eyes shone in the dull lighting of the cave, and emanated a deep, rich sorrow, a patience, a wisdom, all mixed together, intertwined with hopes, goals, dreams, incomprehensible by anyone not willing to devote time to thinking about it.
The wolf laid on the floor of his cave, as he thought of it, with his hind legs tucked to his sides, his tail wrapped against him, resting against one of his legs, and his front legs crossed at the paws, his head balanced, resting neatly on top the crossed paws.
Staring out at the rain blinking slowly, a rumble emitted from the wolf, however not a growl, but a natural reflex, a friendly reminder of the lack of substance in his stomach. Looking out at the seemingly everlasting rain, he realized he would soon have to venture into the forest to find food, regardless the amount of rain falling, and he debated which was worse, lying there hungry but dry, or content, yet wet.
The water would not kill him, but he preferred not to get wet if he did not have too, it bothered him to return to his cave wet, as that made the cave wet, in turn making him muddy, which would result in him having to bathe once the rain stopped, and then wait outside the cave for both himself and the cave floor to dry. By that point, chances are it will have started raining again, and the whole process would have to start over again. No. He could wait until the rain has stopped.
While he waited out the rain, he pondered where to get food net. Unlike most wolves, his prey did not flee him, and he was pretty sure it did not mind being eaten. This wolf, was a vegetarian. He had been for as long as he could remember. He could not bring himself to kill an animal. He had tried, ages ago. Shifting uncomfortably, he recalled the experience, shuddering as the memories flooded his mind.
He had been years younger than he now was, to the extent of his memory, which was clouded up to a certain point, but he was sure most animals could not remember their childhood. Rolling onto his side he looked out at the oncoming rain, and accepted the painful memories, replaying them in his mind like a movie, as if he were there again.
He had been running through the forest, running from what he did not remember. He did remember he had all intentions of escaping this enigma, and escape he did. In his escape, however, he had lost track of where he had came from. He had forgotten it. He still did not remember. He was exhausted and confused, yet relieved. Whatever he had run from, he had escaped. However, there was a sensation that overcame all the rest. He was hungry, and needed to eat.
Then he spotted his dinner. It was sitting on the ground, scratching behind it's ear with it's hind paw. His dinner stopped scratching, and sniffed the air, it's pink nose twitching, it's whiskers bobbing up and down. It looked uneasily in the direction of the wolf, which startled him, threw him off guard. His heart skipped a beat, as if to tell him not to carry on, however a pain from his stomach told him he needed to eat, and him brain reminded him that this time, his stomach was correct.
He looked at his dinner again, it had decided that the area the wolf was in was nothing to fear, and gone back to nibbling a purple flower petal happily. He pondered an approach, finally he ran in, intending to snap his dinner's neck. In the attempt he accidentally lifted it and threw it at the same time with his mouth.
As it was falling it was already struggling to regain balance. It half rolled, half scurried backwards in it's panic, and as the wolf noticed he was upon his dinner in one bound, and had his paw on it in another. It looked away, trembling as it waited for it's life to end. Then he noticed something he had not noticed before. When he noticed it, he could not shake it.
Under his paw was his dinner, but it was terrified. Under his paw was his dinner, that had twitched his nose without a care in the world. Under his paw was his dinner... A dinner with the same thoughts, emotions, dreams, and goals as him. He held the entire life of a creature... Under his paw. This was not his dinner, nor any one's. This was a rabbit, an innocent rabbit. He looked at the rabbit, and he saw a creature equal to him, waiting for him to remove it's right to live.
He removed his paw.
The rabbit looked up at him, too terrified to even move, likely worried he was just playing with him. The wolf took another step backwards, and sat down. The rabbit struggled up, and scooted to the edge of the clearing, against a bush. It turned to look at the wolf one last time, it's eyes screaming thanks, and then turning to scamper into the bush.
He stood up, shaking off the memories of the past, and looked out at the rain. A rumble once again reminded him he had not eaten, and he slowly moved to the mouth of the cave. Looking up at the trees looking above, a raindrop slapped his nose, cold, wet, and like everything else outside by now, smelling like sea salt.
Scanning the treetops, in which the rain was falling as it slid down the leaves, at last finding a small spot in which he could see the clouds. They were dark and thick, and next to no light shone through. It would be impossible to tell the time of day, and even if he could, there was next to no chance to find food, let alone figure out if it were safe. Eating was going to have to wait.
This thought process was ended by another cold, heavy raindrop piercing his snout, sending a chill through his body. Trudging back into the cave, he laid down and sighed, allowing his thoughts to return to the base of his memory.
He sat staring at the place the rabbit had just been laying, shaking. He just had a life, a heart that beat, a brain that had thought, something with a home, possibly a family, something that slept and ate, breathed and more, all just like him, under his paw. He could have taken all that away in a second. He could have consumed the rabbit as if it were nothing more than a handful of berries. Eating something like that, to him, it would be cannibalism.
They both had beating hearts.
After a few more minutes of staring at the lack of rabbit, he stood up. He needed food. Food that did not have a beating heart. He needed fruits, vegetables. What leaves were edible? What fruits tasted good? A quick scan around the small clearing he was in resulted in some purple flowers, some leafy bushes, plenty of grass, a tree that had some bright red fruit growing on it, a log, and a couple chattering squirrels. He could not eat a log, did not want to eat grass or leaves, however fruit looked good.
Walking up to the tree, he looked around. It was too high to reach, however there were several lying on the ground. One was smashed, revealing a mushy looking yellow inside with orange seeds, and another was whole, and looked like a bell, or an upside-down mushroom. It smelled awful, like rotting honey, burning, rotting smelling.
Flowers it was.
The flowers had petals that were light purple at the start, and dark tips. They had a bright green stem and deep green leaves. There were eleven of the purple petals, and they were big, big enough that they might be filling if he ate enough. The petals were aligned in two layers, six on the bottom and five on the top. He crouched down to pull a petal off one of the flowers, using a paw to hold the stem down. A light tug resulted in a satisfying ‘Pluk’, and he cautiously began chewing on the petal. It tasted sweet. Glad he had found this flower, he pulled a whole flower out of the ground, and began gnawing. Taking a bite out of the stem, he was greeted by one of the most disgusting bitter flavors he could remember, however little far he could remember.
The stem was not edible, and if it were, he was not eating it. The petals would suffice, and by plucking petals and piling them up, he was able to gather enough that despite however filling they were, they would at least give the illusion of being filling.
They had been filling enough. The thoughts of his meal brought him back to the present, and his hunger reminded him of it’s presence like a punch to the stomach. It was still storming, he could not gather food. He curled into a ball, and attempted to fall asleep.
He was running, his muscles burning. There was a young boy, running, running with him. The boy had light grey hair, and bright blue eyes. They were trying to get somewhere, trying to escape something. He heard a scream, and turned back to see the boy trip, and start to slide, no, be dragged into a tree. He raced toward the boy, but just as he was almost there, the boy disappeared into the tree.
He awoke, startled. This had been the third time he had this dream, however this time he was closer, this time he saw more detail on the boy, was closer to saving him, this time, the tree seemed more alive. More alive than other things. This tree seemed too alive.
It was still raining. He needed something to pass the time, something to take his mind off hunger, and anything but sleeping. He could continue reliving his memory, at least until the rain ceased.
Closing his eyes and allowing the mental images to overflow reality, he returned his mind to the past.
He had just eaten, and was content. The next, and only thing to do was explore, learn where he was, and find a source of food. He noticed he would be able to get through the trees and bushes without getting scratched much at all, and picked a small area to squeeze through. Walking along he saw trees everywhere, an obvious observation, as he was in the middle, or what he thought was the middle, of a forest.
He also saw other plants, smaller plants. One with big leaves, many leaves, which smelled sweet, and had little red berries running up the stem. He noted a berry that had been nibbled open by an insect, the berries had a bright red juicy inside, unlike the big mushy fruit from the tree in the clearing. It was an interesting plant, and he decided to remember it’s location next time he had to go looking for food.
There was another plant of interest, a flower with big, painted yellow-orange petals, growing from a vine growing around trees, and bushes. It smelled nice, an aroma that reminded him of open fields and sweet citrus fruit. It was such a nice flower, he did not want to eat it, as he would not want to eat an animal. It was an interesting self defence, he thought, to make your predator not WANT to eat you.
He noticed a small squirrel observing him from not too far away, twitching it’s tail as it undoubtedly thought of all the ways the wolf might attack, and the ways it could escape up a tree or into a bush at a moment’s notice. He ignored the squirrel, not intending to attack it, and carried on his explorations.
After a while, he found yet another interesting plant, this one not a flower, but a type of tree. He had seen less of this tree than any other plant, yet it’s odd shape stood out to him. It had ordinary branch shapes, and the bark was smooth and light brown. However, rather than leaves, there was a large number of small thick vines, short and handing from all sides of the branches. For some reason the sight of the tree was comical to him, and he made a game out of spotting them, which was not all that hard as they stood out from the rest of the trees.
Moving on he found a small stream, water trickling down the packed dirt and little stones as it made it’s way down the almost nonexistent decline, perhaps ending in a small waterfall, or merging with the other streams to form a river. Leaning down he drank, the cool fresh water sliding down his throat, quenching his thirst, and removing the bad taste that he had acquired while sampling the leaves of several plants he had found while exploring.
Looking at the area the stream went through, he found more purple petaled flowers, a tree with red flowers spread across the leaves, one or two of the flowers had a small insect on it feasting on it’s nectar, a bunch of rocks covered in thick green moss, and a couple clumps of various wild grasses that looked like they had been nibbled on by a small animal, perhaps a rabbit.
A rabbit.
He wondered about the rabbit he had almost eaten. Did it escape to it’s home? Was it still alive? It wasn’t traumatized by the meeting, was it? He wished he had thought to follow it, or memorize it’s fur batters and other defining features. However, as there would be no way to tell, so in this case, he decided to assume the best, that the rabbit is still alive, peacefully with it’s family, with plenty of food and other little rabbit companions.
He laid down by the stream and listened to it’s trickles while he thought of the rabbit, and about the future. He would need more food, and shelter, preferably a shelter between the field and river, so as to be nearby both food and water. But first he wanted to explore more. He wanted to learn every flower, every grass, every tree. If he was going to reside in this forest, he wanted to know it as if it were his own.
After a while the tricking of the stream lulled him to sleep. As he slept, his subconscious mind attempted to pull memories long lost towards him, and he was running, dashing for his life, fearing some entity that even his subconscious coated in a black cloud. He dashed, dashed, propelled his body away from the darkness, pulled himself away from the enigma he feared.
He woke up, burning hot and sweating. His nightmare told him to get up and run, however the soft tricking of the stream and the gentle breeze rustling the leaves, the skipping and flitting of some small grey fish in the water told him all was calm. He thought about the dream, but then diverted his attention to his temperature, despite the cool breeze, he still felt hot, and wanted to rinse off.
He walked over to the stream and poked at it with his nose. It was wet, however obvious that may be, but that made it all the colder to him, and he hesitated going through with it. He stuck his paw in, and shivered. He walked in the rest of the way. The chilling water hit him like a punch to the stomach, but after a minute he got used to it, it felt more refreshing. He let the water flow around him for five to six more minutes, occasionally leaning down to feel more water passing over his back.
Once content he waded back out of the stream, and trudged back up onto the dirt and moss nearby. Taking in a deep breath, he shook his entire body, shaking the wet off his body, his ears whipping against his head. The shake did an insignificant job drying him, and he stretched, pulling his body away from his legs, pulling his legs away from his body. It pulled at him, feeling slightly painful at first, but relieving when he stopped.
He looked around to decide where to explore next, and decided to head away from the river for a bit, and explore further south. He pushed through trees and bushes, stopping to snack on a couple flowers along the way, until he came to a large rock covered in various mosses. The rock was as big as nine or ten of him, enough that a small group of humans could set up a small camp on it comfortably, and be able to camouflage with nearby trees and ambush enemies. He walked up onto the rock and looked around, due to the trees he could not see far at all, so even with the four or five foot top to the rock, there was next to no height advantage.
Hopping off the rock he continued weaving through trees and shrubs, flitting by the bushes and trunks, leaping over fallen logs and romping through patches of flowers. After a while he had to stop to ensure he did not ram into a tree, as it had begun getting dark and it was becoming near impossible to navigate the forest, nor did he want to risk it.
Laying down with one paw bent under him and the other stretched out in front of him, he realized something he needed. Soon, he would need to find several, or more, places in which to return to, shelters, in which to protect him from the elements, as well as creatures they may with to kill him for food or resource, such as bigger animals, or humans. However, tonight it was too dark, and tomorrow he wished to prioritize exploration once more. Resting his head on his paw he drifted off to sleep.
He awoke to the chirping of a bird, or several birds, he couldn’t remember, and he rose, stretching off the sleep. He had had a restful night, with no disturbances from either outside animals or environments, nor from his own subconscious. He noted the broken, bent, and otherwise disturbed plants that indicated the direction he came from, and began walking in the opposite direction.
After trudging through plants and rocks for a while, he noticed a thin area drawn across part of the forest in which he could see a break in trees, that had no plants littering the ground. He followed the line with his eyes, it curved slightly, and was woven around and behind trees like a snake, unnaturally out of sight from where he stood. Cautiously, he approached the area in question, uncertain what to expect.
Once he was close enough to see what it was, he scouted closer to get a better look. The dirt was packed and plants plucked from the area, winding around trees far in both directions. It was a path through the forest, for easy transportation, a shortcut through the thick trees, making it possible to pass through the forest, rather than having to go around it. He walked alongside it for several minutes, in order to get a feel for where it went.
He quickly became bored of following the road, and turned back into the woods. He walked for a while, until he felt a cold swift wet drop hit his ear, He looked up, and noticed that despite the time of day, it was getting rapidly darker and the drops were coming faster and faster. The more rain that fell, the more he realized it had been a mistake not looking for shelter as soon as possible. But that would have to wait. He curled up in a ball, and waited for the rain to end.
The rain.
Thinking of rain reminded him of reality, and getting up and stretching he walked over to the mouth of the cave. The rain had stopped. Time to gather food. Shaking off his weariness, he took a step from out of the cover of the cave. The ground was moist and spongy, and water squished between his toes.
Sighing, he mushed forward, stepping out of the way of a large puddle, and around several drooping plants. The areas around him were still moderately foggy, so he would not be able to run, but he was not concerned about finding his food fast, only about finding food in the first place.
Shivering, he wished the rain had not made the forest so cold, and stopped for a second to listen to a chirp of a bird, and remembered coming into contact with one when he was younger, he associated the chirps with a medium sized bird of a bright red color, with four long skinny tail feathers, and a medium sized beak, likely used for pulling insects out of rotting wood, or the ground.
A big raindrop hit him from the trees above, and he sighed as he resumed walking, a rumble emitting from his stomach reminding him why he was there. The freshly rained on plants around him glistened, looking shiny as they stood tall after their meal. If only he could survive on sunlight and water. He hated the rain, yet could not help but to respect it, it gave the life to what he ate, and to him, and most other living things.
He craved a certain type of fruit, a fruit that was nasty when not ripe, yet delicious when it was, and protected itself through colors, when not ripe it was a sweet looking red, yet when ripe a bright green, to most animals, it would seemingly be hard and bitter when ripe, yet he discovered otherwise on a night desperate for food. He hoped that if he wandered around enough, he might stumble upon this plant, and he set himself to moving about in a random manner, as if he had no sense of direction, and did so for upwards an hour, before deciding to stop, noticing a generalized change in the area around him.
He had forgotten to figure out the time before he left the cave. It had begun getting dark, and he had no clue where he was. He would not be able to get back to his cave, not until morning at the very least. He got moving again, looking around for a fallen tree, or a bush that he could squeeze under for the night, to protect himself from the elements and from other, bigger animals,l hoping to catch him by surprise.
At last he found a small hole dug out in front of a hollowed out tree, with some vines and a small bush hiding it from view, for the most part. He crouched down and and crawled in, if he curled correctly he could fit his head and legs in, as well as most of his body, however part of his back would be guarded only by the vines and bush. Once he was in the position in which he would have to remain until the sun rose enough to see, and was glad to find that, for the most part, the vines, as well as the outside of the tree itself, had kept the spot dry, and slightly warmer than the outside.
He heard a cold wind blow by the trees, and around his cramped temporary shelter and he was relieved to see his shelter protected most of him from the wind, however he still shivered as the wind ran across his back, digging into his fur, uncomfortably caressing his skin, chilling him both externally and internally.
Trying to snuggle further into the tree, he closed his eyes anxious for morning, and very quickly was drifted from his conscious state, allowing his unconscious to take over.
He thought it odd, it was late afternoon and getting dark, yet he never remembered morning happening. Then he realized he was running. He did not feel anything, as if rather than actually running, he was just watching himself run. He also noticed, beside him, a boy running, and he watched the boy as they both ran, feeling as if the world was running in slow motion. He studied the boy while they ran, watching his shaggy unkept hair flop behind him, his blue eyes squinting slightly as he dashed faster than the air could move out of his way. He was small, and wore tattered looking clothing likely homemade ages ago. He studied the boy;s face, and the boy shouted something, however he could not hear the shout, or anything else around him.
But then time caught up with him.
The boy’s facial expression was clear, it was a look of pure terror. The ground around him rumbled, and the trees seemed to close in on him.
Then the boy tripped.
It almost looked as if he were yanked to the ground by a branch. He watched as the branch seemingly pulled the boy across the ground, and he turned to chase it. Running at the branch, at the tree, which seemed more... Awake than other trees, finally catching up, he jumped at a branch, sinking his teeth into the wood, which broke apart, rotting, which made him realize the only sense he had control of was sight, and running toward the trunk he looked up to see the boy disappear into the tree, and the tree almost... Look at him. He was a branch whip out, and swing at him, and rather than the blow knocking him into unconsciousness, it knocked him back into reality, back into consciousness.
His heart pounded, and a chilly breeze passing over his back reminded him it was nothing but a dream, a vivid dream. He focused on breathing until he calmed down, and feared returning to sleep due to the increasing clarity of this recurring dream.
He decided to lose himself in his conscious mind while he awaited the fresh daylight, and found himself wishing he was back in his cave, and once he began thinking of his cave, he decided to focus his thoughts on the finding of his cave, back to reliving the beginning of his memory in his mind.
The only thing guarding him from the rain was the top of his body, and he curled into the tightest ball possible. He thought about places he had earlier seen, but could not recall seeing any ideal places to sleep, or hide from the rain. After a while the rain died down, not gone completely, but a mere drizzle compared to the downpour he just endured. The quenched surroundings were foggy and mucky, but he decided anything would be more beneficial than sitting there hoping a shelter would come to him. He got up and began trudging around trees and puddles, looking around bushes and behind rocks, attempting to, at the very least, find somewhere to wait out the rain and the fog.
The surroundings reminded him of a marsh, and he half expected a sudden invasion of frogs to take over the forest. He saw a bunch of insects and amphibians out enjoying the misty drizzly atmosphere, and imagined the river would be teeming with hopping fish and meandering turtles.
But no wolves.
He had not seen a wolf in the forest as long as he could remember. He was certain there was a pack somewhere in the woods, and at some point in time he was seperated, he got lost, or perhaps he was abandoned. He had to have parents, so there had to be wolves somewhere.
He vowed that some time after he had a shelter, or even a few, he would devote time to locating the other wolves, and possibly join with them once more. But as of right now, this was not a priority. Stepping over a fallen tree he maneuvered around big plants, stomping on little ones, thinking about the future.
As time passed and the day grew later he heard the chirping of many insects coming from the treetops, and he attempted to identify it just from the sound, but was unable. Squishing between two tree trunks, he wondered if he was going to have to give up the search for the night. He stretched and decided he would continue to explore for ten to fifteen more minutes, and then sleep for the night.
He spotted an area where the roots of a tree were holding dirt and rocks up, and was hanging down, and approaching the edge he noticed it was like a cliff, but only a couple yards tall. Leaning back he prepared to jump down to explore further. Jumping down he landed with a thud, causing his muscles to ache momentarily. While he wished that his leap had been smoother, he was content with having made it in one piece.
Looking around, he took in his new surroundings, seeing large tree trunks, big ferns, several large rocks, and staring at him, screaming its presence, the mouth of a small cave. He got a good look at the cave, and thought it would be wise to wait until morning to check the cave for inhabitants in the light, instead of barging in while it was dark, mysterious.
He walked a little ways away from the cave, and curled up beside a tree whose trunk was as wide as was when he was curled up. He hoped the cave was unoccupied, and was already planning on exploring to find where the river, food sources, and other places he might want to frequent were in comparison to the cave. However, he tried to clear his mind of these thoughts in preparation of finding a bear, fox, or other woodland animal.
He woke up, not remembering having fallen asleep, to hear a chirping coming from his back. Not wanting to move, he realized from the weight and sound that a bird was standing on him. It chirped again, and strutted back and forth for a minute before settling down once more. The cave exploration was going to have to wait until the bird left. He knew that if he would not like the soft fluffy ground he was sitting on to move, nor would the bird.
In his mind, all animals were equal. He was going to remain in place until the bird left. Sighing, he acknowledged that if he tried not caring for a while, his life would be so much easier. After about ten minutes, the bird flew away without a thanks, getting up and stretching his aching muscles, he looked over at the cave. However much he wanted it to be clear, he had doubts, big ones. He wondered how he would tell if something lived there, and just left before he woke up. Hopefully he would be able to tell upon going in.
He inched closer to the cave, his heart racing. Creeping across the packed rock and dirt where the grass ended, he peered into the cave, breathing heavily. No animal was present. He exhaled a sigh of relief, and hoped that if something did inhabit the cave, that it would not show up while he was poking around. He looked at the ground, and saw no disturbances other than where he had already walked. This cave was empty, and nothing was going to fill it anytime soon, nor had anything filled it recently.
It was his cave now.
He debated locating food and water immediately, but decided instead to waste the rest of the day doing nothing but being in his new home, knowing that having somewhere to return would make going out to get food all the more worthwhile.
He stopped thinking about his cave to return to the focus on staying warm, but then noticed it was already warm, and there was color, light. It was morning, perhaps even early afternoon. He shuffled backwards out of his hiding place and stretched. He still did not know where he was, but having sight at his disposal would no doubt make the task at hand so much easier. he walked around a bit, sniffing for trails, but found nothing to lead him to the path he previously took.
Seeing an unusual spot in the forest, he pushed by a bush and tree trunk to find himself looking at a familiar forest clearing. From here, he know how to find his cave. However, he still needed food, and luckily, he knew of where in the clearing to get it. Squeezing all the way into the clearing, he looked around for the small sea of purple, and noticing it on the other side, he began walking toward it, before noticing something out of the ordinary.
Looking closer, he saw a pile of ash and burnt wood, primarily small branches, and next to the burnt remains a pile of branches, and an even bigger pile of twigs. Not too far away from these sticks was a small layer of leaves coating a semi rectangular portion of the area, and after a minute it dawned on him what this setup was.
There was a campfire, for warmth and a small bed of leaves, for comfort. There was a human here. he thought of all the possibilities, a hunter, a soldier, a camper, an escaped prisoner, anything. He had not seen a human in the forest as long as he could remember, yet somehow he had knowledge of humans. Regardless this human's intentions, he did not want to still be at it’s camp when it returned.
Then a voice rang out across the clearing, clear and soft, staggering as if terrified, yet the voice drained his thoughts and emotions, instead refilling them with one thing, and one thing only. It was fear. He found terror in this small shaking voice, he had no idea how this small meek noise could bring forth such emotion, yet it did. The voice shattered the clearing, piercing the heavens yet but a quiet inquiry:
“W-wh-who’s there..?”
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