Forea has her head bent low, drinking from a crystal clear pond. She’s a magnificent sight to behold. Not all my friends are what you would call scary. I’m sure many people have stumbled upon her and confused her for a very large male caribou. She lifts her head at my approach, not at all skittish, with water still dripping from her face.
“Hi, Forea,” I call, while leaning against a large bolder bordering the pond. I’m more tired than I have the right to be after a thirty-minute walk. Maybe I need to come out here more often.
Evening, child,she answers, but it’s not out loud. I can hear her in my head. Her voice is feminine, but deep, almost sultry. Her huge antlers are bowed wide up behind her with small strings of moss dripping between the points, resembling jewelry.
How are you faring?
I use my hands and lift my butt up onto the rock. “I’m okay. I thought I’d come for a visit since it’s been a while.”
Time passes, child, with or without us.Forea turns so I can see her broad chest and the red patch that sits right in the center, as if her heart is exposed. Sometimes, I think she talks in riddles.
A small bunny hops into the clearing, moving right to the pond to drink while standing in the huge reindeer’s shadow. There are other animals also: some bedded down, others munching on the grass and weeds.
What’s bothering you? Your heart is heavy.
I bring my knees up to my chest and plant my chin on them. The rock is so cold under me that I shiver, but my feet need a break from standing. “Are there any new animals in the forest?”
Forea makes a grunting sound.There are always new beings—sixteen moths are taking flight right now.She lifts her nose in the air and I can see a tiny blast of steam as she puffs out an exhale.
“What about a lion with a golden mane?” I wrap my arms around my legs.
Ah, the Nemean.It’s like I can hear her smile, but nothing on her physical face shifts.
“You know it then?”
I know him, child, just as I know you.
“I’d never seen him before yesterday. Has he been here long?” I take comfort in the fact that Forea knows him.
He comes and goes, just like the seasons, along with many others.
I nearly jump out of my skin when a bird screeches in the distance. I hadn’t even realized how quiet and calm the night has gotten. “Damn bird,” I mutter, readjusting my legs. “What about Gunnar? He was the injured male that made it to the house.”
He did not pass through the woods, my dear.
“Are you sure? How would he have gotten to the house?” I know not to doubt Forea, even without my senses telling me she’s being truthful, but I still ask the questions.
There are many ways one could travel and not venture into the woods.That statement confirms that he isn’t human, but what could he be?
I lean back on my palms and look up at the clear sky. The frigidness of the rock finally warms under me, or maybe my body is growing used to the cold; either way, I’m more comfortable now. The small animals continue scurrying about, while Forea dips her face back into the pool for another drink.
I sit in the quiet of her and her animals’ company for a long while. My legs are stiff when I slide off the rock. “You know you’re welcome at the house anytime.” I break the silence. Forea only dips her head a bit to acknowledge me.
My walk back is just as sluggish as my outward journey. The mud on my boots had dried, but they’re caked over with even more by the time I make it to the tree line bordering the clearing of my house. The sound of someone’s rapid breathing freezes me in my tracks.
“She’s not here,” he grumbles into a cell phone near his ear. I take cover behind a thick oak tree, but keep him in my sights. A shot of adrenaline courses through my veins. I’m not scared—quite the opposite in fact. I can’t see the man’s face, but I know he’s human.
“I don’t know. Her car is in the garage, but there’s no one in the house.” The man winces and pulls the phone away from his ear. “I know I’m not supposed to go in the house. I only checked because I hadn’t seen any movement in hours.”
“Well, shit,” the man mumbles, pulling the phone away from his ear again. In the next second, another man appears right next to him out of thin air. The newcomer grabs the other man by the throat and lifts.
“I didn’t go in,” he croaks, holding on to the arm that’s lifting him in the air.
“Then how the fuck do you know she’s not in there?” I tilt my head, his voice sounds familiar.
The man being choked makes some gurgling sounds before the other man releases him, and he falls to a heap on the ground, immediately grabbing at his neck.
“Footprints,” the man gasps. “She went into the woods.” It takes him several attempts, but he finally gets the words out.
