Remi's Great Escape (Forestfolk Prequel)

Chapter 3

The wind rustled the yellow grass all around me. I imagined it whispering things to me as it hissed through the blades.

You are sssstrong...

You can do thissssss...

The sun dipped lower, lending a chill to the air. I shivered as a gust whipped through my hair. Only the biggest warriors went without shirts during this time of year, and usually because they were drunk.

I'm going to be the biggest warrior, I told myself. Immune to the cold.

With a determined set of my jaw, I forged ahead in the direction of the Zurbo tribe.

With the sun quickly sinking out of view, it soon became apparent that I was not the biggest warrior, nor was I immune to the cold. It would take at least half a day more to reach the other tribe. If I didn't find shelter of some kind, there was a good chance I'd freeze to death.

I rubbed my hands over my bare arms and considered retreating back home. But that would mean losing all the time I'd already walked, not to mention incurring the wrath of Pode the Toad. Plus they wouldn't let me eat. If I wanted to get this over with, I couldn't move backward.

I surveyed the plains around me.

Nothing but flat, endless prairie as far as the eye could see, dotted by a few lonesome trees. Would it be warmer or colder under a tree? I headed toward the nearest one to find out.

It was about the same. I picked up a fallen branch, wishing I could make a fire. Or jam the thing up Pode's nose.

That was when I noticed the tracks. I'd learned to tell the difference between rabbits, ground squirrels, coyotes, and many other tracks when I used to follow my father hunting. He'd show me where they liked to walk, and how to recognize all the little clues the animals left behind. Even their poop held useful information.

I missed Pa. People liked him. They tolerated me more because of him. But more than that, I missed how he would challenge me to find things in the field, and ruffle my hair when I succeeded. He was a man of few words, but his smile had said everything.

Rabbit tracks zipped this way and that. Not that I could actually catch one with my bare hands, but it could mean...

There! I ran to the dark patch half-hidden by weeds and examined it.

The first time Pa had shown me coyote dung, I'd made a face and wouldn't go near it. If it wasn't edible, then it wasn't for me. But he'd called me a wimp, so of course I had to come closer to show him that I wasn't.

I poked at the dung with a stick and found it dry and crumbled. A hunt around the area revealed a few more piles like it. Could there be a den nearby?

I didn't see any piles of dirt anywhere.

Another chilly gust ripped past my skin, ruffling my meager loincloth. Goosebumps broke out everywhere, and I began shivering in earnest. I had to find shelter soon.

But the light was fading, and the grass hid so much.

I circled the tree in widening arcs, hoping to at least fall into a hole of some kind.

Nothing.

Evening birds had come out to sing, but I could barely hear them over my chattering teeth.

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing Pa hadn't been killed during that stupid raid, ordered by our stupid chieftain. Pa would know what to do.

Son, you're going about it all wrong, his voice echoed in my memory. Coyotes don't dig holes in the middle of flat ground. They like loose dirt, next to big things like boulders or hills.

Or trees!

My eyes popped open and I ran to the tree, using what little light was left to peer at its roots.

There!

I nudged a patch of grass aside with my foot and found a crumbling hole between two large roots. Yes! Thank you, Pa.

I dropped to my knees and reached in with one arm. The opening was a little narrow, but it seemed deep. I began widening the hole with the stick I'd found and scooping out armloads of dirt with my hands. I wasn't very worried about occupants, because the old dung indicated this area had been abandoned for a while. But even if there were, I'd welcome their warmth. And if they wanted to eat me, I'd at least die more quickly than shivering to death.

When the opening looked wide enough, I stuck my legs in and scooted down. My hip wedged against a rock, and it took some effort to shake it loose.

Wiggle. Scoot. Wiggle. Scoot. It was slow going, but I eventually got my shoulders inside. I imagined being stuck in this opening forever, but again, that seemed preferable to freezing. Warmth radiated from the dirt after baking in the sun all day, and I could feel it seeping into my skin.

Wiggle. Scoot. Wiggle. Scoot. I kept pushing until my legs dangled out into open space. Excited, I shimmied even faster, until I tumbled into a small cavern. It wasn't very big, since I could extend my arms and touch both walls, but I was able to move around on all fours until I settled into a patch of soft dirt.

I sighed with contented relief. The prairie wind did not reach down here. A beetle crawled over my foot, but I didn't care.

I was warm at last.

Someone give that kid a blanket! (And maybe some bug spray.) And a vote!