The Forest

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Undergrowth

Carrying

“How much longer!” Sa’ly shouted.

“Just a bit more,” Ren’a shouted back, loud enough to be heard all the way up where Sa’ly was balancing, and above the thunderstorm that was eating at them. Sa’ly, clinging on for dear life on a nearby branch, held a bucket just far out enough to catch the drips falling from the leaves above, but just far enough so that she could catch herself if she fell.

In spite of the warm, tropical downpour that was currently drenching the two, Sa’ly was shaking madly. The only one out of them.

“I really don’t think this is worth it, and I want to get down, and preferably never up again,” Sa’ly shouted.

“Listen,” Ren’a said, cupping her hands around her mouth to speak over the even harder downpour, “You need to conquer your fears. If you don’t do this now, you’ll always use it as an excuse to get down.”

Sa’ly looked around at the torrent that was swirling around her, making jeering motions to knock her off her perch.

“Yep, totally irrational fear. Nothing to be scared of about this.”

“That’s the spirit.”

A crack of thunder shocked Sa’ly back from disbelieving sarcasm into blind terror. She exhaled a few times, looked below, hyped herself up, and started sliding down.

“No, Sal’, just a bit longer. The storm’s almost over.”

“Or let’s not maximise the chances of me turning into a pancake on the canopy. I’m coming down.”

Over Ren’a’s barely audible protests, Sa’ly carefully, shakily, oh so carefully, climbed back down with bucket in hand. It was almost but not quite full. Sa’ly hit the ground, rainwater and leaves flying up to celebrate the occasion. Ren’a stared at her with the pained expression of a friend watching another friend fail. And as soon as she did, the storm turned to a trickle, and the trickle into sun.

“Hey, almost got it, now we don’t have to do it again,” Sa’ly said, holding the bucket up to Ren’a. Ren’a cautiously took it and Sa’ly walked off, whistling cheerfully.

Ren’a was in shock for a second but jogged up to meet her sibling.

“Sal’,” she began, sheepishly, “I think you did a great job---”

“I agree. Great conversation.”

“But! You didn’t finish the job. You’re never going to get over your fear of heights if you don’t try and really stick it out.”

“Uh huh, I think I can take the bucket from here,” she said, holding out her hand as she continued walking.

Ren’a shook her head and handed over the bucket. The two kept walking, squelching the dense, tangled mass of branches and leaves under their feet. Treetops surrounding them poked through the ground like soldiers. Pools of water from the torrential storm lay around them and stretched off into the distance. Drips of water wiggled their way via gravity down through the canopy. And each little drop had a long way to go to get from the treetops to the ground. If such a thing even existed.

“I really can’t wait to get my feet in front of a fire. I hate when they shrivel up like this,” Ren’a said.

“Sounds like a losing battle to me, Ren. Getting older you’re going to shrivel up anyway. Older and halfway to the---”

Sal’y sharply sunk into the ground, reacting just fast enough to splay her arms out, bucket still in hand and stopping her from being pulled further in.

“Sal!” Ren shouted, leaping to her sister to try pulling her up.

“What the hell is this? It feels like I’m being pulled down.”

“Not on my watch, I need you to pull up, find your footing, really push.”

“Oh, well, I was trying to go under. But now that you say that---”

The ground swallowed her further. Now she was just two arms and a head. With an almighty yell and a pull, Ren’a got a sliver of Sal’y’s torso up. However, it was as though the tree redoubled its efforts and swallowed her whole.

Sal’y heard the faint shout of her name from Ren’a as she descended at great speed down.

Falling

Sal’y made most of the trip down in pure darkness; the only sign she had that she wasn’t dead was the rustling of tree branches moving, as if they didn’t want to make a fuss by being in her way.

She made an effort to reach out, and she was able to slow her fall to a crawl. She heard the faintest whiff of her name being called out above her. She didn’t look down.

“Sal!” she heard, “Sal! I don’t know if you can hear me, but I’m going to get the rest of the tribe to help. Just stay there.”

She then heard the distinct sound of her only way out of this running away.

Her arms screamed at the effort, she had wrapped two branches around both arms, but between the strain and the scraping she didn’t have the ability to stay put for as long as it took for Ren’a to get the rest of the tribe. She couldn’t even stay put for the next minute. And there she went.

She slipped, and tokenly held out her arms, accruing scrapes as she did. The bucket she held was being yanked from her grasp, but in all the commotion was curiously holding on to it for dear life as it accrued leaves. Sa’ly prayed to whatever would listen that she found some solid ground.

Below, the trees finally, fully parted revealing the ground below. Far, far below. Sal’y reached her arms up, grabbing fistfuls of tree just before freefall. The force of the stop yanked screamingly on her shoulders, and she dangled like a bunny over the jaws of a dragon. Sal’y’s eyes were clamped firmly shut as she gently swayed in the…she opened one eye the merest amount in surprise once she made the realisation: There was no breeze. There was no sun. There was no water from the storms. It was cold, though she could not figure out whether she was shivering from that or from adrenaline. Her arms began burning from inside.

Dual panics fought within her, that of the height, and the chance that her arms could give out any second. She aimed to move a shaky arm to climb her way over to the nearest tree, wherever that may be through dim light filtered through a squinting gaze. That was the hand that was holding the bucket, which fell down. Sal’y, out of instinct, shot a glance down, seeing the bucket spread its leafy contents through the air and clattering on the forest floor below.

Almost as a response, a growl rang out through the trees below, a deep gurgling growl that clicked with a homicidal glee. Three panics.

Sal’y finally wrenched a hand free, and, through the dim light of floating, glowing mites floating through the air, navigated to the first tree in sight. Decades of life under a sun gave this dark underworld a dull burning quality to her eyes. Looking up, and only up, she swung from branch mass to branch mass, freezing any time there was a crack and a movement above, but the tree held firm.

Quick as a flash, a creature sped to the base of the tree. It slithered along the ground like a snake with four legs. Long as a tree rested on its side it moved up the tree Sal’y was heading for like it was walking on the ground. Sal’y gritted her teeth as she undid all of the progress she had made, though this time with a sweatier grip and sharper pains in her arms. The numbness radiating from her shoulders did little to dull the pain.

Closer up, and at a position where she didn’t have to see the ground, Sal’y saw the scaly creature stare at her with all three of its eyes. Oozing from where its claws dug into the tree, a glistening, pearlescent liquid flowed out and onto the ground like a mist, beginning to flood the forest floor. It snapped a few times at Sal’y.

“I don’t suppose you want to go under me to get your meal. Give me a nice cushion to land on.”

The creature ceased snapping at Sal’y and craned its head below. Before Sal’y could consider in what way she could break the creature’s neck with just her legs, it dropped from its perch and landed with a shuddering thud. Sal’y didn’t know why it dropped down, but she wasn’t about to ask as she climbed, grabbing fistfuls of tree at a time, over to the tree. The second she hugged the tree she was given relief in the form of a painful rushing sensation in her arms, accompanied by pins and needles.

She

---

Sal’y hucked a rock square at the creature’s neck. It bounced off with a sickening crunch and the creature whipped around. Sal’y’s heart pounded in her ear, as though the gaze of the creature beamed a hole into her torso.

“I suggest doing something now if you’re going to do something,” she shouted.

And he did, he ran behind the nearby tree.

---

“You don’t know how to use a waterdagger? My, you’re a green one, aren’t you?”

Sammi drove the dagger into the tree and popped out a little toothpick sized rotary handle from the hilt. He rotated it, simultaneously opening the split in the tree and the pommel of the dagger.

---

“I appreciate it, love finding me someone who doesn’t try to eat me,” she said, bringing the liquid to her lips.

Sammi rushed over and placed a hand between the vessel and her mouth.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you. Unless you’re looking to hallucinate your skin peeling off and then dying.”

Sal’y looked, wide eyed, at the liquid and at Sammi.

“I’m curious as to why we’re carrying this around with us, then. Unless you’re really wrestling with some personal demons.”

“It will be water, just needs a bit of boiling. You really are not from here, aren’t you.”

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