It had been calm for a few minutes as Gallus took the time to think. Ocellus took the opportunity to get a few snacks, even taking the time to show Yona and Silverstream the proper method of making s'mores according to Camping 101's chapter on "camping confections." The results were predictably delicious, though Yona had managed to burn her marshmallow. Still, she didn't seem to mind.
"Alright, I got just the one," Gallus said, lifting off from his seat and hovering over the fire. With the sun final set, the light of the fire only managed to partially illuminate his feathers and face, shadows dancing along his body in time with the beat of his wings. It almost made the shadows seem alive, breathing.
“Griffonstone sits on a tall peak, but there’s a wide stretch of forest out in a valley far to the east. It’s called the Knochen Wald. The Bone Forest. The trees are a stark white, and rarely have leaves except for a few months in the spring. Even with the lack of leaves, though, the trees get so dense in the deeper parts of the wood that you can’t make out the ground from above. It’s all due to the bitter winds that blow through the valley, but legends say it’s also because of a creature that inhabits the woods: Große, the Tall One.
Loggers would go down to the woods all the time, chopping down the sparse trees at the edge for good lumber. It’s the closest source of wood for Griffonstone, in fact. When they came back, though, they would talk about seeing something moving deeper into the woods, between the trees. Even in the brightness of midday, they could only make out the rough shape: tall and slender. Eventually, one of the loggers, named Gunther, decided that he had to know what it was, and proclaimed to all those that would listen that he would come back with proof of what it was.
Many of the loggers laughed him off because he was young and foolish, but it didn't deter him. With his trusty axe and his resolve, he ventured into the woods. He began at noon, but he traveled slowly, keeping his eyes alert and attentive for the sign of even the slightest movement. By the time the sun began to dip below the mountains, the trees had gotten close enough that he couldn’t stretch his wings out without hitting one, but he had seen no sign of the figure. There weren’t even any tracks.
Still, he had put his pride on the line, and continued forward despite the shadows stretching over the valley. He hadn’t thought to bring a lantern with him, but the night sky was clear that day, and moonlight shone over the barren bone white trees of the wood. It was only an hour into the night that he heard the faint snapping of twigs, not from deeper in the woods, but from behind him. He twirled around, axe ready in his talons and his rear legs tightened to pounce, but he saw nothing.
He called out, thinking that it was one of his fellow loggers, having followed him to play a trick on him, but there was no response. The night was suddenly eerily quiet. Not even the wind seemed to blow through the woods. Then, he saw it, out of the corner of his eye: the shape, tall and slender. It was almost as if one of the trees themselves were moving, headed deeper into the forest.
Gunther’s resolve was renewed, and he charged after the shape, axe still held at the ready in one talon. He couldn’t lift off to fly after it, but his legs moved quickly. As the trees began to slowly grow thicker, he still caught glimpses of it ahead of him, but it seemed to move quicker than he thought possible. In one blink of his eyes, it would be just a few trees ahead, and then the next he would spot it barely moving between a trio of trees fifty feet ahead of him.
Suddenly, the trees thick enough that he couldn’t even spread his wings, he lost sight of it again. He stopped, taking heavy breaths as his pounding heart tried to calm itself. While the trunks of the trees were far enough apart for him to move, their tops and branches had started to cross, and the moonlight projected a web of gnarled shadows down onto him. He thought of going back, taking his axe to the branches to fly into the air. His pride couldn’t be worth so much.
Just as he began to climb the nearest tree, he saw it. It had stopped moving, staring at him from a few trees away. He could clearly make out four legs, gangly and spindly. Even though it was still, they were swaying slightly. He couldn't make out its body or head. It just seemed like a jet black mass atop those legs in the faint moonlight.
He froze. He was certain that if he made the wrong move, it would pounce on him. His grip on his axe tightened, prepared to swing however he could if it came at him. It felt like hours were passing as he waited, watching and being watched. Finally, a delayed reflex came, and he stopped climbing, instead running directly away from the figure.
His body twisted as he dove and dashed between the close trunks of the trees, his wings and legs scraping against the bark as he fought back the urge to fly, certain it would leave him exposed if the creature had chased him. By the time he realized what direction he had fled in, it was too late.
He looked over his shoulder, catching the creature’s flickering form between a few trees, and the moment of distraction was enough. He tripped over a root, his axe loosened from his grip and lodged into a tree as he went spinning and tumbling. A particularly thick patch of trees seemed to rise out of the blackness created by the dense canopy and his momentum was stopped, his vision dazed as his head slammed into a trunk.
As the daze cleared, he did his best to move, but any attempt to dislodge himself made no progress. There was only the sound of the bark scraping against his body as he struggled. His lungs burning and his heart pounding, he stopped, taking slow breaths to try and calm himself. Then, he heard the snap of twigs from in front of him. He strained, trying to adjust his eyes to the darkness, but it seemed not even a sliver of moonlight could make it through the trees.
Snap.
Another branch, this time behind him. His tail flicked about, and he tried to turn his head to see, but it was no use.
Snap.
This time is was to his right.
Snap.
His left.
Snap.
In front. He renewed his struggles, twisting his body, hoping that something would give, even if it had to be him.
Crack!
One of his legs gave way to the pressure.
Crack!
Then the other. He twisted himself free and did the only thing he could think to do, and climbed. Clawing and pulling himself up, he made his way for the canopy, even as the pain in his broken legs grew more and more intense. The snapping of the twigs was gone.
Crunch!
Now it was trees. Thunderous, powerful booms as entire trunks were torn in half, but now all of them were coming from behind him.
Up and up he managed to claw, ripping through the branches, and the moonlight slowly began to peek through. The breaking trunks were closer by the second, and he threw himself upwards, stretching his wings out as his talons ripped and clawed for all they were worth. The branches dug into his wings, but they gave way, and he finally felt the faint breeze of the air.
He didn’t look back. He flew straight up, wings and heart beating as fast as they could. He saw Griffonstone in the distance, and flew as fast as he could. The thunderous sounds of breaking logs and branches and the faint snap of twigs were gone in the distance. The forest was silent.
Gunther told his story to the others. They laughed at him and called him a coward. He didn’t care, he was alive. He refused to go back to the Bone Forest again. However, one of the loggers he worked alongside did bring him something after a week. They found his axe when they came out one morning, lodged into a tree stump at the edge of the woods.
Ocellus let out a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. Her throat and mouth felt dry, and the breath that followed was a shallow, shaky one. She then noticed that a hoof she had rested on Yona's leg to try and calm her shaking had changed to a firm grip, and let go. Yona was now just as still as Ocellus, though her breaths were coming much faster.
Smolder was much more attentive, and Ocellus could make out claw marks in the log next to her as she lifted one up. “That was pretty good,” she said, flatly and quickly.
Sandbar swallowed a lump in his throat, and Ocellus could see Silverstream shaking a bit on the other side of Yona.
Gallus hovered back to his seat, looking triumphant. “Tough act to follow, huh?”
“C-certainly makes sitting next to the c-creepy woods a liiiittle creepier,” Silverstream muttered, flexing her wings. She then reached into one of her bags, pulling out a large graham cracker and nibbling away at it.
“I mean, it’s nothing for a dragon.” Smolder sounded sure of herself, though Ocellus saw her wings flexing just like Silverstream’s. “We can’t exactly get stuck in some trees.” She took a slow breath, and then pushed a tight jet of flame past her lips, which dissipated into heat after a few inches.
“Yeah, sure. I’m surprised you didn’t say that dragons aren’t afraid of anything though,” Gallus retorted, holding a trio of marshmallows over the fire.
Smolder chuckled, but looked into the flames. “Oh, you’d be surprised.”