Litany of Thorns

Ch. 3

It was wilder here. Warmth of a sunny summer's day burned through the emerald canopy, baking the damp soil underfoot until it was dry and left the air heavy and humid. Brambles and wildflowers that grew sparsely around the cottage instead flourished here, framing the edges of an old dirt path and painting the forest in a brilliant array of blues, pinks, and yellows. The gossamer glint of butterfly wings fluttered from flower to flower, and playful melodies of songbirds filled the air. Dozens of them perched high on the networks of branches that sprawled outwards from each massive tree that stretched up into the sky, a kaleidoscope of colours among the deep green and rich browns. The forest was alive, an explosion of noise and activity in every direction.

An enormous, lumbering elk crossed over the dry path, grass and flowers trampled under hoof only to spring back into position with nary a scratch. Its fur was thick and shaggy, greying with age and dappled with moss, while its cresting antlers were carved with a beautiful and ornate pattern like creeping ivy. It gnawed at the low forbs, eyes up to scan tree-dotted horizon before it moved on, carried by long and lanky legs that gave it an impressive gait.

"Caillin!"

The elk's head reared up. An arrow sprung from between the bushes and missed, the wooden tip grazing the skin of the elk's neck and embedding itself in a tree. It bolted, vanishing amongst the trees.

Caillin cursed under his breath as he slung his bow back over his shoulder and rose from a low crouch. He emerged from his hiding place among the shrubbery but did not pursue the hunt, and instead his head snapped towards the origin of the sound. It was muffled by distance and so he waited, peering through the trees to spy a source, but nothing revealed itself. The voice was intimately familiar, and he hoped in his nerves he had just imagined it. The forest was full of strange things, sights and sounds that Caillin could not quite explain after all, and it would not be the first time it had called out to him.

He approached the tree to wrench the arrow free from it. He carved a new point to the blunted arrow with a small knife as he waited.

Then there were footsteps.

There was a pitter-patter of clumsy strides that followed hot on Caillin's heels, and with them came laughter and a whimsical song that he had heard a dozen times before. These things were usually a comfort but instead he found himself grinding his teeth together until it hurt. A figure skipped from tree root to tree root and bounded through the ferny undergrowth with a childlike glee and not an ounce of grace. She smiled as she spotted Caillin and called out his name again.

Caillin did not smile. He placed a hand on his hips and rubbed his temple with the other as he met her smile with a glare.

Dairine's carelessness never ceased to amaze. Her hands and knees were marked with grazes and smeared with grime, and she leapt towards her younger brother in a mess of gangly limbs and long, stringy dark hair. She smiled in a wide, toothy grin as she embraced him, but Caillin did not return it. In a flurry of movement Dairine grabbed his hand and turned in the direction of the deep forest. She pulled, hoping to bring him in tow, but Caillin kicked in his heels and stood firm. For a girl with such a slight frame it took most of his might to hold her back.

"Where are we going today?" Dairine asked.

"You're going home," Caillin replied, jaw clenched through the strain of holding back his sister. He gave her a long, stern look.

"You look like Lea when you do that."

"I learned it from her." He shook his head. "You know what, that's not important. You need to turn around and go back home. If we go any further you might get hurt."

Dairine pinched her brother's cheeks until they were red, but he bat both hands away. "Bored of me already?" she asked.

"No, I just don't want you getting in any trouble."