“Yes, shat! That’s it. You should try to catch an Elfurdritch. Get the ridges.”
Next thing I knew, I was on my way into the forest with a stolen net over my arm to get some mythical creature’s ridges.
Ormaybe you just wanted to get away from…I was fairly sure it was Kleini.
His parting words had been more instructions.
I needed to get in pretty far to have any chance of catching one, and he advised me to keep the torch burning; that would attract the creature.
I followed a forest trail for a bit, then decided to venture off and go through the trees. Surely an “Elfurdritch” Horror would lurk somewhere inthere.
I’d pulled on my hoodie before I left, but it was freezing outside. I got colder by the minute and the mud already crunched under my boots.
Let’s hope they won’t only have ridges but a means to keep me warm.
Once I’d gone far enough, I stuck a branch into the forest earth. I draped the net over it, and placed the stolen torchlight on the ground. There was a hollow in the trunk that hid me from view.
That should work.
Once I had done what Kleini told me, I collapsed next to the tree.
Now we wait.
I had a moment of clarity, and hoped the nights in late autumn weren’t cold enough yet for me to freeze to death in the middle of a Bavarian forest before I collapsed against the thick trunk.
I fell asleep—or fainted, I wasn’t sure—and let the lure of a silent mind take me under.
Chapter Two
Vee
The bite in the air told me it was going to be a chilly night in the forest. I set off down the steps leading off my front porch and entered the forest to start my patrol. With October almost over and All Hallow’s Day around the corner, winter spread its icyfingers through my neck of the woods, getting ready to sink its claws into uncovered flesh.
Thank fuck for my plumage and functional underwear.
I’d bundled up in a camo suit that made me nearly invisible in the nighttime forest. My breath hung like wisps of fog in the air before me, and I soon found my rhythm on the uneven path.
Except for the inevitable cold, it looked to be a night like any other.
As I walked, I was once more mesmerised by the beauty of the woods I lived in. No matter how much time I spent in them, and regardless of the weather or the season, I felt this was where I belonged. This was where the land knew my name, and where the trees recognised my presence. The small creatures listened to my footsteps, watching me from their hiding places in the undergrowth.
This forest ran through my veins. It was my home.
I didn’t set out to enjoy the beauty of the late autumn forest, though. My task was not to marvel at thechanging leaves, making sure the deer and moss people were all right, or checking on the health of my trees.
A while ago my colleague Frederik had noticed that someone had been taking more Wood Blewits than usual. The mushrooms had healing powers and, unfortunately, also acted as a powerful aphrodisiac. Demand for them surged every couple of years, but we agreed that something was off this time. Losing Wood Blewits would negatively impact biodiversity in the forest, and we, as rangers, were the ones who had to put a stop to the poachers. And tonight it was my turn to patrol.
My colleagues, Frederik and Johann, and I had talked about bringing weapons on our patrol duty. Since we were gamekeepers, we all had gun licenses and our own rifles locked away in gun safes.
We occasionally needed them to put the poor animals out of their misery, but it didn’t sit well with us. Our job was protecting the forest. None of us wanted to hurt the poachers; we just wanted them to stop taking too many of the precious mushrooms.
Shooting people doesn’t exactly encourage preservation and protection.
I went in a wide circle around my cabin. I had walked for almost an hour when I came across a faint light in the distance. It glinted between the thick tree trunks of the dark forest, and it bobbed and disappeared as I approached it, but I always found it again. It drew me like a beacon in the dark. I came out into a clearing just five minutes later and spotted a simple flashlight. It sat on a patch of moss in the middle of a circle of Wood Blewits, and over it someone had put up a trap.
I snorted. It was the shittiest trap I’d ever seen: a net like the ones people used to cover their ponds with in the fall was draped over a shaky wooden branch that wobbled with every gust of cold night air.
My feet carried me over to the trap of their own accord, and I kept my eyes fixed on that bright light. I had to see it for myself and bent to pick up the flashlight.
