Lord of the forest

The boys awakening

Boy's pov:

In that chilled, dim chamber of Asher's mansion, the Deer Boy slowly came back to consciousness, his mind like a whirlpool of bewilderment and disorientation. The morning mist, so slow, unravelled the return of consciousness until every sense had been fine-tuned.

He groaned again, feeling his own weight hauling him down, limbs heavy, leaden. He heaved upward, heavy eyelids slowly opening to allow the faint light filtering through a small, high-set window into the chamber to seep into his brain, illuminating everything with a soft, ghostly glow. The Deer Boy blinked against the dimness, surveying what lay around him through bleary eyes.

The air was stifling in the chamber; its rough stone walls seemed to press in on him, as if the jaws of a trap had clamped shut upon him. Shafts of dust-filled light streamed through the narrow window and cast long, ghostly shadows across the floor. Heavy iron bars ran across one end, forming a forbidding barrier to mock his attempts at escape. The air was weighty with the smell of old, moist earth, and the only sound that disturbed this stillness was the dripping water, steady to its beat, in a cadence echoing from some unseen source.

Fear clawed at the chest of the Deer Boy as he still remained in a confused state of mind about his situation. Memories of his capture played on his mind like shards of nightmare: shouting, gunshots, that sickly sweet smell of chloroform. He did all he could, but there was nothing he could do-nothing at all-to recall how he came to be here in this place. Something pandemonium in quality threatened to choke him with its concrete embrace.

He used his last resort-desperation-to force himself up. His muscles groaned with the effort. Each movement caused great pain, as if he had been dragged through hell and back. He reached out with trembling hands to grasp the iron bars in front, those barring his way to freedom. His heart pounded in his chest like a trapped animal.

Yet, struggle as hard as he might, the bars would not give. And in their cold, unfeeling touch lay a cruel reminder of his captivity. In every endeavor to break loose he felt himself farther and farther alienated from hope or sympathy, and he felt more cheerless than at any other time.

As minutes turned into hours, thoughts of Galen, his constant companion and friend, filled the mind of the Deer Boy. His inner eye conjured visions of the proud elk dodging ingenious traps and subtle snares of the deadly forest to gather a rescuing band for their deliverance. And with each passing moment, so did his anxiety over Galen increase, burning his determination to break free and rejoin him all the more.

So with grim resolve, the Deer Boy decided to bide his time, waiting for the opportune moment. Trapped he was now, but he would not surrender to despair. For as long as breath was left in him, there was hope. And with Galen beside him, all became possible.