My footsteps are quiet through the forest. Three years and I have learnt how to step lightly, where to put my feet on the trodden ground. The sunlight that seeps through the trees overhead no longer distracts me; my eyes half closed and I never fall. I jump from one rock to another, and then travel away from the path and down deeper into the forest. I am so quiet. Maybe I’ll be able to sneak up on them for once. Maybe.
It is a mixed day, with clouds shifting in across the sky like there is a swinging mirror balanced above me. On one side is the weather we’d come to hate throughout summer, but on the other side is the sun and creamy blue sky. Right now the mirror appears to be balanced, sunlight holding off the tide of clouds that are collecting across the east side. I leave the spots of sunshine that filter in through the canopies of leaves above and enter into the darkness.
The ground is beginning to lower and become loose; I turn my feet sideways and dig down to get a good hold of the earth. I begin to slide down, aware of the wet leaves that collect as I do. They rustle in the wind.
I twirl the rusty coin in my hand all the while, the key to my friend’s home. A couple years earlier and it would have been zipped safely into my pocket for fear of losing it. If I lost the coin, I lost them. But now… if the coin was to slip… would it matter? I think to myself that it might be better this way, with no goodbyes. I twirl the coin faster.
I let myself go and run down the forest, catching myself on a leaning tree. My hand’s touch and cross over its body, each finger slotting into the crinkled bark. I wonder what it would be like to touch the Elders, to prove that they are real. Maybe they will let me, if I ask.
The worst is past and I can easily get to the bottom without falling, although I do slip at one point. Maybe they heard me, the little ones. I only hear the river swirling not far away, and the leaves and birds twisting in the wind. The oranges and blacks are like fire and night fighting overhead.
Where are they? Usually a few of them are playing in this small opening here between the trees, dashing about like roots bursting upwards. Sometimes they like to wait here for me, if they hear me coming. And they always do. Not today though, it seems.
Splash. A cry, almost a gurgle, sounds from the river up ahead. I set over there immediately, almost desperately in my desire to see them. A few trees stand apart like columns, lining my way forward. Sunlight cuts sharply across the opposite side of the riverbank, separating both me and the Famora away from the real world.
I lower my body and creep up the edge of the river, expecting to see lots of the saplings enjoying the mild weather. I’m ready to pounce on them, to yell out and make them all jump, but there is no one there. I look up and around me. I’d heard them only seconds before! I was sure it was them. Maybe I’d scared them off? I didn’t usually come up so quiet. I switch the coin in my hand over anxiously.
I look down again into the river. SPLASH!
“Arh!” I yell out as five Famora’s erupt from the river and tackle me down with their small but heavy bodies. Wooden, twisted hands knot over me and tie me down, with squeals of laughter vibrating through them as they do. I flinch as what feels like a branch turns over my face and almost pokes my eyes out. I try to raise my arms but the five of them have me good.
“We got you, we got you!”
“There’s no escape Max, just try it!”
“You didn’t even know we were there!”
“I did!” I lie, laughing as they squirm to stay on top of me. I try rolling over onto my side but they push me back. I turn my head and see Azura, a girl Femora of about eight, boring down at me.
