The West Woods

Chapter 1 : A Wes in the Woods

Dawn broke like any other to the sound of Catcoons meowling as they crawled out of their burrows and the din of bees buzzing around the field. A field in which a small home had been made with lumpy stone pillars lined up to keep out hounds or other creatures, and a wooden door that splintered and hitched awkwardly. Wooden boards covered part of the earth within the stone wall, a floor half finished at the time. Bedrolls stayed rolled out where upon - on two separate sides of a dwindling fire inside a pit - slept two figures.

The first was a lanky thing, with arms like noodles and legs like twigs, and a face shaped like an almond. A long face with a pointed chin above which set a mouth with uncharacteristically plump lips painted black as the hair atop his head. At the center of his face was a pointed and defined nose that seemed sharp if not for the very small rounding at the tip. The rest of his features were painted white except his eyelids -which were brushed with a dull purple - and his cheeks, covered in a prominent red blush that made clear his occupation, which was a mime. And his name was Wes.

The second Figure laying upon the ground was a man of work. Though he had a thinner waist his chest and arms were built from the hard work he did as a lumberjack. He had an orange beard that covered all of his upper lip, but left enough room for the lower one to protrude, and there was the spot where one could see two teeth -bucked and gaped- resting upon it. From his head to his toe the man was covered in red hairs, his arms most so and his chest, seen from the way his shirt opened slightly at the top and the soft red fur stuck out. This man's name was Woodie and it was he who woke first.

Woodie rolled to one side. He rolled to the other side. Then he wheeled onto his stomach and propped himself upon his elbows, his hands rose-up to scrub at his face. He opened his eyes and breathed sharply through his nose. Above the blades of grass woven together to make a pillow rested his trusty ax, Lucy. He reached out to her, wrapping his hand about her and grumbling a dry 'g'morning' and he heard her hum sharply back in greeting.

Lifting himself he dusted his pants of the flaky dried grass bits, a dusty bedroll it was but a bedroll nonetheless, and he moved to stir the fire to keep it alive just long enough to make breakfast.

'How did you sleep, big guy?'

He could hear her grating voice in his ears. To others the sound might be unpleasant but Woodie found it quite comforting and he relaxed as he pulled some morsels from his bag. There had been rabbits in the garden last night and Woodie had sneaked in to kill them before they hurt the crops. He began to cook them over the fire while he chatted quietly with Lucy. Small talk at first, and then of plans later in the day.

It was moments like this that relaxed Woodie. They gave him a little break from the danger around them and made him feel like they were back home. And then he remembered the sleeping figure laying on the ground across from him.

'Woodie, you're staring again.'

"I'm not starin', I'm just lookin' a minute, eh?"

'You're staring.'

There was no point arguing with her, he'd tried before and still the ol' girl would continue to push this idea that he was staring at the mime. He wasn't staring, not for any strange reason anyway. He just worried about the other man. Wes was small, scrawny, and seeming to shrink more so as the days went on. With winter coming Woodie's fear the other would starve was surfacing.

For just a moment Woodie could have sworn the other had stopped breathing. He jumped and stood quickly, taking large strides to close the distance, then he knelt next to the man. His fingers pressed to Wes's pulse and his teeth grit nervously.

The mime stirred.

With a sigh of relief Woodie sat back and exhaled hard, giving a relieved chuckle and smiled into his hands. Wes propped himself up on his elbow and rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a gloved hand before taking a deep breath, huffing it out quickly, and looking to Woodie. His pale gray eyes held inquiry and Woodie tried his best to smile at the other.