In Blackened Maws

i // lost

It was a lovely evening on a cool spring day, and Archer Westbrooke was horribly lost.

This entire expedition was supposed to be soothing. He'd had enough stress since high school, and this lonesome little trip was supposed to help. And it started like that! He was alone with nature and his thoughts, and whenever he felt his mind wander to the more negative things he wanted to keep buried, the scampering of a forest critter was enough to shift his focus away. Being alone-but-not-alone was a good feeling, one he wished he could sit with for awhile. Maybe that was why he decided to take the "long way" back, though, surely, there was more blame on the fact that the trail in question faded only after a few feet. Nevermind that he continued on regardless.

Now, armed only with the little things he brought, he was verging on having a meltdown. He had the necessities. A day or two's worth of food and water, a matchbox, his dead phone, a map, and a compass. The latter two, of course, seemed like they would be helpful, but it's difficult to pin-point one's location when they don't have any discerning features around them. Likewise, Archer had only brought the map and compass because his grandparents insisted. He had never used them in such a degree before, and doing it all while panicking in the setting sunlight made it far more difficult than it was supposed to be.

Archer threw the map aside in frustration, though quickly re-evaluated that action and picked it up again, only glancing it at once more before shoving it in his pack. He groaned, letting his gaze sweep through his immediate vicinity before stomping off to a relatively small clearing. He squinted at the sunlight as it shone down on him, and while it would be nice to see that he still had daylight, the sun in question was a filtered orange through the surrounding thicket. A glance at the sky and its contrast of daytime blue with twilight purple confirmed his suspicions. So, it was almost nighttime, and he would very surely find himself subject to the inhabitants of the surrounding forest in no time.

He only had one other option left. Well, he had multiple, but this would probably be the best one he had in the current situation. He took a deep breath, channeling all those years of chorus and play-acting, and let out the loudest scream he could muster.

Someone had to hear him, right? He started running to multiple parts of the woods, arms flailing, hoping someone, anyone, would hear his plea and come to his rescue. The birds and other animals surely did, if the flock that had ascended with his insane shouts were any indication, so why not people? They had to. Please, someone had to.

He started choking on his own spit after a few minutes of this nonsense. He cleared his now-scratchy throat, and, with reluctance, leaned against a nearby tree and slowly slid down to the grassy forest floor. He looked to the sky again, and while the blue and purple was still there, that midnight navy was creeping up, slowly but steadily, and, with it, his dread. With the sun almost gone, the air around him turned just a bit chillier, and while Archer was happy to have donned his beanie, a mere t-shirt and shorts wouldn't be the best apparel for the eventual cool of a northwestern spring night.

Welp, this sucked. If his screaming didn't call anyone, he doubted he'd be found now.

With little else to do, Archer started going through his pack. He went to his phone first, holding down the power button and hoping that, by some divine chance, the screen might alight with at least a smidgen of battery. His frustration only increased when, surprise-surprise, nothing happened, and he tossed the device aside for a bag of chips, which he knew he should be rationing, but his hopes of this all being some hyper-realistic dream weren't dashed just yet. That, or he just didn't care.

As Archer munched with little on his mind but frustration, he thought. Figures that he would get lost. Of all people, of course it had to be him. A part of him couldn't blame whatever cruel hand decided his fate, though. He'd earned his clumsy reputation for a reason. He had wished it was charming, but that would mean he'd easily gain friends, but he didn't. There were people who he hung out with, yes, but it was weird to call them friends. Maybe if he could just commit, he wouldn't be in this situation now. Being out in the woods with friends sounded...fun, he supposed. Being with people, chatting about life, that all sounded...nice. He guessed. Definitely nicer than in the woods at night, at least, with virtually nobody but potentially ravenous animals watching and waiting from the dark trees surrounding him.