The Tree's Heart

VI

It was only a few nights later that Clover woke up in the middle of the night. She wasn't sure what had woken her up, at first. She was feeling thirsty and hungry, but at first, she was too sleepy to get up for anything. Plus, there wasn't really much around in terms of food and drink. There was a jug of water and there was some bread and that was about all there was. Clover thought of the berries she had collected a few days earlier, wondering whether she might be able to eat some of them. They looked delicious.

Clover had been wanting to try them ever since she had plucked them. She thought she was going insane at first, because she kept dreaming of the berries and how they might taste – a mix of sweet and sour, fruit juice running down her lips and her chin. It almost felt like something about those berries was calling her, like she was drawn towards them. Clover blamed the strict diet of water and bread.

There was other food, of course. There were jams, sometimes there were berries, there was honey, there were the soups and stews, and there were all kinds of different teas (which was only hot water with leaves, to be fair). But other than that, there wasn't a whole lot of variety in their food. Of course, that was because of the fact that they had to live off whatever the forest would provide for them.

Still, was it any wonder that Clover had such an appetite for those berries she had been picking? But she didn't know where they were. Willow had taken them away and never told her where she kept them, which was probably for the better, because there were many times when Clover was getting ravenous for them, and she would easily have eaten the entire basket. And she didn't exactly want to have to cut up her hands again, just to fill another basket, despite Willow being able to take care of the cuts.

Clover sat up in her bed, wondering whether she should get herself some water and maybe a slice of bread. That was when she heard it – there were voices outside the cabin. They sounded beautiful. Melodic, joyful, clear. They were singing. And there weren't just two or three voices singing – there were at least ten or twenty! What was going on out there? Clover was fascinated. The voices were singing in a different language, one that sounded different from anything she had ever heard before. Clover felt drawn to those voices.

Before she knew what she was doing she had gotten out of bed and put on her shirt and her skirt. She could see a faint light from the window, glowing silver and golden. Something was going on out there – and that something was immensely beautiful, and Clover wanted to be part of it. She had completely forgotten that she was hungry and thirsty, that's how drawn she was to whatever was going on out there.

She made her way to the door of the cabin and left, not bothering even putting on her shoes. The ground was cold beneath her feet, but Clover didn't care. She liked feeling the soil pressing up through her toes, she liked how different the patches of moss felt when she stepped on them with her bare feet. Feeling all the different textures so clearly and distinctly made her want to dance, made her want to elegantly weave through the rays of moonlight that were falling through the trees onto the ground.

Clover could hear the singing more clearly now. She knew exactly where to go to join whoever was out there. It was like the voices and sounds were drawing her in, like she had barely any will of her own left. And she had the feeling that whoever was out there, they had to be friendly creatures. Their singing wouldn't be so beautiful, if they weren't friendly, would it? Clover couldn't imagine that.

As she came closer, she could see that there were many distinct little lights, a lot of them flitting around, as if they were dancing. The singing seemed to completely encompass Clover now and she felt warm and welcome. Something about this singing made her feel incredibly happy. She never wanted to leave.

She got even closer and saw that there were little men standing in a circle, holding tiny little lanterns that were giving off a golden light. Around them were little women, about the same size as the men, moving through them and around them in some sort of ring dance, while they were singing. Clover didn't want to disturb them, so she sat down at the edge of the circle and watched them do their dance.