Very strange indeed.
It began as many wonderful dreams do, in a forest. It was a really great forest, with a soft mossy floor and delicate ferns uncurling in the green light. Many leafy trees stretched high above and their trunks were thick with lichen. I walked along barefoot, listening to the sounds.There was a squirrel in a large oak tree, tapping a nut on the branch. He stopped his task to look at me inquisitively before dashing out of sight.
I walked on, and became aware that I was searching for something. I wore a worn tunic of tanned hides and it hung below my knees. In my hand was a curved bow, lovingly crafted from birch wood. Slung carefree over my shoulder I carried a small quiver and I could hear the quiet jostle of the arrows inside as I stepped.
In the quiet forest I walked, careful not to make a sound. I turned quickly when I heard the sound of a twig snapping. A short distance away, a young deer stood in the shadows. It looked me in the eye for a moment, and then exploded into action.
Forgetting my need for silence, I burst into a run after the beast. It darted between the trees like an old pro, trying to lose me.
I persisted and at the top of the hill, as it jumped over a low concrete wall, I loosed an arrow. It flew true! The beast stumbled into the trench beyond the wall and disappeared from sight. I followed swiftly, and leaned over the wall.
This wall was roughly three feet high from my side, but I could now see it cut deeper into the hill than I had thought.This wall was 6 feet deep into the ground and beyond it was a curvaceous grassland that resembled a golf course. The wall ran in a straight line to the east and west, and followed the contours of the hillocks so that I could see no end of it. Four feet from the wall ran a parallel chain-link fence, set into a low wall of concrete.
I planted my hands onto the wall and vaulted over. I landed with a thud on the short grass, but as I knelt there I could see no sign of the deer. I walked along the chain-link fence until I came to a door. It was unlocked, and I let myself in. I could hear a soft rustle, and the moans of the dying deer.
I followed the sound to find the deer lying behind a thatch of low bushes, but as I drew nearer I looked on in dismay.
I had not shot a young buck in the forest, it was Him! The King of the Forest. The Great Beast of Breasts. He who ran swift as the wind and light as a feather. He now lay at my feet, with barely enough strength to lift His huge head of antlers. I fell to my knees and grasped the arrow protruding from His chest with both hands. I yanked it abruptly and pressed my hand to His gaping wound. I reached into my tunic with the other hand for the small satchel that hung around my neck from a leather cord. I tore it open with my teeth and the contents spewed onto His velvety fur. I scooped a handful of the white beads towards the wound and pressed them into the fur matted with blood. I pressed down with both hands and said the Ancient Words.
The beads of course, are not beads at all, but the unhatched eggs of the Delkin Larvae. Beneath the warmth of my hands and the moisture of His blood, they awoke to their Ancient rite. The hatched and burrowed into the King's wounds. He wailed with paint and his eyes rolled in their sockets as the Larvae dug into his flesh. I slowly stood up and stepped away as His fur began to ripple like water in a pond. The Larvae have been told to have miraculous healing properties, but at the price of great pain.At that moment, we heard a loud crack and the sound of approaching men. Heavy boots plodded on the spongy ground. He raised himself to his knees, then to His full height. The Larvae still bubbled and boiled below his skin, but despite the pain He dashed out of sight. I raced back to the door in the fence and eased myself over the high wall. I collapsed on the other side, panting.
When I caught my breath, I felt the queer sense someone was watching me. I raised myself up, notched an arrow, and looked about. What I saw made me nearly lose me grip.
Standing in the woods was a great white moose. From his rack of antlers there flowed ripped tatters of what looked like white cloth, and it trailed behind him like a ghost. He turned away, took a few steps, and looked back. I got shakily to my feet, and followed slowly behind him. He walked on at a steady pace, weaving a path through the trees but often looking back to see me following. Some of the white fabric would catch on a branch or bush, but it would melt in my hand like snow when I tried to collect it.I followed him deep into the forest as the sun sank low in the sky. I had no idea why, but I could feel this was of great importance. The forest felt sickly and the trees were dark and bare. We came to a clearing in this forbidden wood, and this great moose vanished altogether. It seemed that the clearing had once been a human settlement, and the square skeletal foundation of a large stone house could still be seen. In the centre of the square ring was a raised stone platform, much like an altar. Lodged in the altar, I saw my ill fated arrow that I had loosed earlier today (it had been lost in the shuffle). It now stood straight in the air, the head buried deep in the stone. I could see it oozed a black slime from the wound, which had dripped from the altar and poisoned the surrounding plants.
Already the soil closest to the altar had turned to sand; the grasses had dried up and blown away. Some larger vines persisted, but were black with the poison. This was my doing.
I stumbled towards the altar. I could hear a low dreadful moan and was surprised to find it was coming from my own throat. I began yanking the dead plants from their sandy deathbeds. I finally approached the altar and found it was covered in the black dead vines. I reached into my belt and pulled out my short knife. I pulled and slashed and tore until my hands bled, and collapsed in tears when the altar was bare.I crawled on my hands and knees up to the altar. My hands that were coated in sticky black tar and blood were now coated in sand. I reached up and grasped the arrow, but found I had no strength left to pull it. I let myself fall onto the altar and cried into the crook of my arm.
Just as the last rays of sun dissolved into darkness and it seemed that all hope was lost, I felt a presence.He had returned to me! He looked down upon me sternly, and I tearfully returned his gaze. He finally gave me the strength I needed to continue. I stood and pulled on the arrow with both hands, ignoring the pain and holding tight despite the slippery blood. I pulled with all of my might until the arrow came free and I fell backward onto the earth that was already beginning to heal. I looked around for the King, but he was nowhere to be found.
More to come! I have some more photos and I plan to continue exploring
