He was Almost Absorbed by the System

Chapter Forty Five - Curious Willow

Willow was a quiet, curious boy, who caused his parents no end of worry and vexation. Barely able to remain still, the agile child who was as slender and long as his name suggested would slip from their sight without care, only to reappear in any number of places.

"Your boy crept into the nursery and upset my babies!"

"I was curious to see them," he stated innocently.

"Your son was sitting on top of my roof!"

"Old Alder's rooftop has a great view of the village," he told his parents.

"Brother snuck after me and scared poor Apple when he fell off of a tree branch!"

"I wanted to see what sister and her friends were doing," he said this and confessed with a slight grimace; "but I lost my balance."

Right now, the green eyed, red headed little boy was lying on top of a high tree branch, playing a random melody on the rough little flute he had carved by himself. He showed some promise with his ability, already able to carve basic things such as bowls and cups, but this did not necessarily make his father happy.

His dad was one of the village warriors, who patrolled their borders, keeping the people safe from the forest predators. He had hoped his first born son would follow his path, but the boy lacked talent with a bow and was not interested in spear or staff.  He could only hope his second son and third born child showed better talent, but the boy was not even two, so it was too soon to tell.

Far below the small boy's perch was a large striped sabre, one of the largest feline predators of the forest, but this did not bother the boy.  A village man's height might only reach the shoulder of an adult sabre and this beast was larger than that.  However this sabre was rather lazy and far too heavy to climb the trees and traverse through the branches.  The cat was happy to linger at the base of the tree, listening to the boy's happy tunes.  The odd pair had spent many a hot afternoon this way.  If Willow had more sense, he would not be so reckless, for even if the sabre was not interested in chasing him for food, this tree they favoured was a distance from the village borders and the sabre was not the only hunter in the forest.

Willow's parents scolded him when he returned, for they had not been able to find him in the village that day, so knew he had left the borders again.  "It's not safe, Willow," his mother told her five year old son once more.  But a slightly distant look had already spread across the small boy's face as he thought about whatever had entered his head at that moment.

Willow's sister also added her views to her mothers, she was a whole two years older than him, after all, so he ought to listen to her.  She blathered on a while, not noticing that he had already disappeared.

Their treetop home was typical of the village, a series of rooms built over time from wood, clay and dry grasses, all connected by a sturdy bridge or terrace attached to tree and supported by thick branches.  The hub of the home was the small kitchen space, where mother prepared fresh fruits and leaves for their meal.  Occasionally there was slithers of raw fish, but the curious Willow had not yet found out where this came from.  The family would sit and eat here as well, before retiring, once it became dark, to their beds.  Willow's sister, Fern, slept in a room built on the roof, his parents slept in a building attached to the home by a bridge and connected to that was the nursery where Corn, his brother slept.  At least until the baby was born, their mother was expecting again.  Then, it had been decided, Corn would sleep with Willow, on the mezzanine above the kitchen.

As the false dawn lit the sky, Willow roused from his slumber, stretched his small body and jumped down into the kitchen.  He took an apple from the fruit bowl, grabbed his flute and his little carving knife from where his mother attempted to hide it in punishment and hurried outside.  Using his lithe body and his sharp little claws, he leapt from branch to branch until he was near the lake.  There were no fish for eating in these waters, just bugs, some water snails and freshwater eels.  He removed his long vest and tied shorts and jumped into the freezing water.  He hated the cold, but always felt the need to be clean.  And besides, no beasts woke so early, so he had found it was the best time to swim.  He scrubbed his clothes, made of thin leather and returned to the trees to let them dry in the dawn light.  And as he waited, he began to carve a dead branch into something else.