Photo credit: Michael Gil
Neyvan pushed between bushes to a clearing in the tall trees. Was he walking in circles? Tracking skills were no use this deep in. He shouldn’t have left the path, but those indigo milkcaps had been too tempting.
Something big rustled behind him. Turning, he saw no gap where he’d just walked.
“Ah, you’re like that today, are you?”
Studying his surroundings, Neyvan approached a wilting tree covered with white goo. “No wonder you’re cranky.” When he touched the gnarled trunk, it shook, dropping dead leaves.
Pressing a handwoven charm against the bark, he sang until it melted in, spreading the healing up, wiping the tree clean, smoothing its sores. He repeated the spell on several nearby trees with the same infestation. Finished, he swept back his sweaty gray hair and listened. Nothing moved, but he no longer sensed hostility.
Neyvan cleared his throat. “Now, if only I could find my way to Silvercreek. A Tree there wants my aid.”
He discreetly took his time rearranging his sack. When he looked up, a long, straight line formed between the trees.
“Of course. There it is.”
Neyvan whistled as he walked. And this time, he stayed on the path.
Inspired by Sammi Cox’s Month of Mini Writing Challenges. Please come join in! This is for Day 11 – Write a story set in a forest in 100 words or less. I’m embarrassed to say that I’ve already bent the rules; this story refused to be told in 100 words. I did insist on wrangling it down to 200 words, despite its strong protestations.
We’ve been to this forest before, although not as many times as I thought we had. (All those unfinished stories, sorry, I’ll get to you, I promise!) For a little more insight, check out: On A Leaf Edge