Secrets of the Forest

The Girl and the Forest

The forest is dense and green, with curling, sharp leaves, and thick branches. They bend, groaning, upwards, trying to close the connection between the woods and the sky. Moonlight streams through the gaps in flowing silver pillars, illuminating the inky darkness of the night.

Her eyes are the colour of burning woodsmoke, her hair a vibrant, unusual shade of blue. Her skin shimmers like a pool of liquid starlight, glowing against the the dark hue of the the toadstool upon which she is perched. Her eyes sparkle. This is her forest.
Humming a slow, deep melody, she watches intently as a girl treads carefully through the trees, her red cloak sweeping along the forest floor. The heavy fabric rustles along the leaves and snapping twigs, scattering beetles and silencing the hunters of the night in shrouded trees. Her eyes are bright and fearful, her footsteps uneven. The fairy grins.

With a flash of her glittering skin, the fairy leaps into the path of the girl in the cloak.

"Who goes there
in the absence of light;
a bug or a bear,
seeking shelter from the night?"

She tilts her head with a mischievous grin.

"Perhaps it's a witch
on her nightly stroll,
Or even a swan!
Or a gruesome troll.

"But whoever wanders,
heed my words.
No one is free here,
not the bugs nor the birds.

"All who enter the forest
must pay a price...
or forever be trapped
underground with the mice!"

She concludes her sinister words with a sweeping bow, her hair tumbling over one shoulder in a mass of cerulean waves. Then she straightens and raises an eyebrow at the stunned girl, who sits down suddenly, releasing a mournful sigh. Her shoulders droop as she peers up at the patches of starlit sky miles above.

"Help me, fairy, for I am lost. I ventured into this forest not three hours gone, and the path disappeared under nightfall. I have been wandering aimlessly but cannot find my way out." She observes the fairy with a hopeful, curious expression. "What is your price for help?"

The fairy ponders for a moment, then another grin lights up her delicate face. She collects her blue hair over her shoulder and winds it around her hand.

"Perhaps it's the colour of your hair, so chestnut and deep."

Then she stretches a flawless arm before her, admiring how the light catches its pearly hue.

"Or the colour of your skin, so amber in the heat."

Finally, she drags her palm along the forest floor, allowing green blood to spill from a small cut.

"But I believe, little girl,
a drop of your blood is all I seek."

The girl frowns in thought, considering the fairy's offer. She needs to escape the forest, but her nan always warned her about blood deals. She shrugs. It was only a drop of blood, how powerful could it be? Anyway, it didn't seem as though she had a choice. She smiles decisively at the fairy.

"I'll do it. But what will you give me to find my way home?"

"This toadstool behind me,
(it's a mushroom at day)
One bite of it's flesh
Will show you the way."

The fairy gestures behind her, to where the toadstool sways in a gentle breeze. All at once, the forest is silent. Listening. Holding its breath.

"I'll take it."

The fairy's eyes glitter with a thousand stars. She offers a sharp twig to the girl, who winces as she pricks her finger. They both watch as a bead of blood drips onto the fairy's outstretched hand, and the sound seems to echo through the forest.

As the blood makes contact, blue veins slither along the fairy's arm, twisting and curling beneath her silver skin before disappearing as fast as it happened. A faint glow hugs her figure, and she watches with delight as red blood spills from the cut on her palm. She turns back to the girl, a smirk playing on her lips.

"Take what you need and be gone."

She turns on her heel, but throws a haughty glance over her shoulder.

"Be warned, little girl,
the forest is alive.
Remember my words,
if you wish to survive."

"The forest is brimming
in all that you lack.
But be careful of stealing
if you cannot give back."

And, with a flick of her hair, she is gone.

The girl becomes all too aware of the creaking trees, the whistling wind, and the scuttling of hidden creatures. She closes her eyes to the wicked darkness and takes a deep breath. And another. And another. Then she stands, brushing dirt and leaves from her clothes, and reaches for the toadstool.
One bite. She examines it shrewdly. Well, it didn't look very big. She doubts one bite would do much good, so without a second thought, she crams it in her mouth and chews, screwing up her face at the sour taste.

The night suddenly seems warmer, safer. She listens happily to the hooting of owls; if she didn't know better, she'd say it sounded as though they were laughing.
She yawns. She'd find her way home tomorrow. But for now, the song of the night lulls her to sleep in a soft, leafy bed. The trees whisper to each other as though considering the value of her secrets, and the stars observe with fear.

And, under the cover of night, the forest opens one eye.