//------------------------------// // A Web Is Woven // Story: That Same Old Story // by The Historian //------------------------------// It had been months. Abrupt skip in the story, I know. I'd arrived in November, way back when I caught my first deer. Its been a long time, to put it lightly. Now it's practically february, and the snow is starting to melt. The first spring rain hit last night, and I feel like all my stories from the past few months are probably worth penning. I've been running into animals more and more as time has gone on, and I'm damned sure something's stalking me. But that's neither here nor there. Grab some popcorn, because these ones are doosies. I suppose I'll start with one only a week or so after my first arrival. It's one of my more memorable: When I met Stache --- I had been walking for maybe a few hours, my backpack on and my iPhone's ubercharge lighting the path before me with a red hue, preserving night vision. Eerily quiet as always, the forest felt even quieter than before. My finely tuned adventure senses, if you could call them that, told me that I was having a bad feeling about this. Granted, I hadn't done anything particularly interesting in the past week, besides from catch some deer and other food-bearing critters. And had a sick day after eating some berries, but the less we say about that the better. But I was sure I'd heard a noise, almost like sobs, out in this direction. I'd seen a river here earlier, but it was still frozen and thus not particularly safe to traverse. I'd given it up at that point, planning on fishing later if food got scarce. But now I approached with a different tempo, my footsteps silent. I flicked off my phone light, letting my eyes fully adjust, as the cries slowly loudened. Echoes resolved into a male sob, and I nearly charged in. But something in me stopped that sort of charge. It was the bad feeling welling again. I got prone, my legs out behind me as I slowly writhed through the grass and underbrush, until I was extremely close. A clearing before me lead to the river, and I squinted through the darkness. Something was there, amongst the rushing water that was now audible. My ears trying to analyze the new sound, and my eyes observing the target, my hands quickly moved to put more brush and other camouflage between me and it. Whatever it was. I saw a figure in the ocean, its scales glinting just so in the moonlight. Moving in strange, almost bridge-like patterns, the body slowly fanned out of view, appropriate for the moonlight. Whatever it was, the head of the creature was obviously facing the opposing side of the river, providing opportunity for closer study. I quietly exited the hidey hole and entered the clearing, the creature's full size becoming further apparent as I closed in. Towering at perhaps seven or eight feet, its curves were patterned, ending in a tail hanging just over land. I resisted the temptation to start touching it, of course, but I still closed to continue observation. Whatever it was, it was wallowing. The dark waters rushed partly because of its body's shutters, causing the water to vibrate just so to make it move roughly. Swimming in my gear would be a challenge, and the briskness of the environs meant to do so was suicide anyways. It began to move, and in panicked speed I quickly hid behind a tree. A hissing sound met my ears, and it slinked onto land, its head visibly looking for something. "One does not simply mutter to oneself behind my back, mmm?" It said, in a voice that sounded like I'd just stepped into a drag bar. I facepalmed, but remained in cover. The darkness outside the clearing made it impossible for him to actually see me, but hearing my breathing was probably possible after my little heart attack earlier. "Fine, be that way. I can sit here all century." Damn. This guy was tricky. And if I left the tree he'd be able to take a shot at me. I fidgeted a little and slid into a sitting position. "I heard that, you little munchkin! Don't be hiding from me now, I don't bite!" "Oh, so you're more of a candles and massage oil type?" I retorted. My hands slapped over my mouth to stifle a gasp at what I'd just said. The monster just laughed. "Oh, a comedian at this time of the year!" It said in its voice. "How I do love visitors. You didn't need to be all hidey-widey!" "Why are we in the past tense here? I'm not out of cover yet." "Well because it'd just be unfabulous to avoid a conversation when you need to cross me to head anywhere significant, of course!" He said, embellishing his importance. "So walking on some ice floes isn't an option? Will you drown me or something?" I quipped. "Oh heavens no! I'm not that kind of sea creature, after all." Here I was, talking to a feminine-sounding male sea beast, teleported onto another planet, chatting about whippdie-doo. I let out a laugh. "So, care to tell me where I am, stranger?" I asked. "Well, some have told me this is the Everfree forest. Obviously a name chosen by someone who can walk on land." Said the beast. "Come now, let us chat in the open. I don't bite." "But if you did, you could kill me." I retorted. "Oh, heavens. You act like I'm a large murdering monster." "Well, have I any other data to go off of than appearance?" "Well... Has anyone told you not to judge a book by its cover?" "How do you get that reference? How do you read books underwater?" I asked/ "...Now that you mention it." A glance around the side had the creature in a contemplative look. His face looked like one of those asian dragons they wore as a costume sometimes. I took a moment to collect myself and turned the corner. Its two large eyes transfixed me for a moment. "You look positively invisible in that clothing! A most dashing choice, my friend!" "Friends have names. What's yours?" I asked. His appearance was familiar, and tickled a bit at the back of my head. Where had I seen him? "Well, I've never really had a need for one, now that you mention it. I only chat with folk rarely." He said, twirling his moustache. One side was purple and curly, oddly enough. That tickle hit me again, but I was too invested to care. "I've got very few worries other than my appearance, you see, so I guess it could be something related to that, mmm?" "'Stache. Definitely your name." I said, looking at the strange dual-type thing growing on his face. The teeth bared into a grin, and I flinched into a near-run as his mouth slowly resolved into a smile. Stupid instincts. "Glorious, darling! Named after my most favorite part of my appearance. This moustache is just radiant, I'm so happy you noticed." The sea dragon-thing beamed. "Whatever, Stache. It was nice meeting you, but I've got to get to bed. Anything I should be worried about in these woods?" "Nothing too taxing. Don't approach any Manticores and stay away from any trees with funny apples. The Timber Wolves are protective creatures. Oh, and if you see any Cockatrices, I recommend looking away. They're rare, but they can be a doozy. And there have been things killing deer lately, so I'd suggest keeping an eye open." My eyes darted a bit at the last part. "Right. Thanks, Stache. I'll see you around?" I asked. "Of course. I promise to calm down the river, and if you ever need to cross: just ask. I hardly mind being a bridge for civil folk in these parts." "Then this is farewell." I said. "Nice meeting you." "And you as well, invisible man!" He called as I melded with the forest, taking the long trek back to my campfire. --- Stache became my go-to guy for goings on in the forest. I could never figure out where I'd seen him, though. It was always a bother, but he was more than amiable enough to make me forget about it. Having someone to talk to in this mess of an afterlife was enjoyable, at the least. I expanded the shelter and kept on building, trying to, at the least, improve things. It went from a simple lean to, to a full-on tent. Deer pelts helped me create a working tepee, and continued hunts helped me make a collapsable long tent, roughly as big as a bedroom. Since I didn't have much for belongings, I also started on bedrolls and some small furniture: little more than carvings with my knife, vines, and some improvised hammers. By the end, I had myself a cosy little place to light up a fire and spend the night. It was lonely, but Stache helped with that. Of course, living in this Everfree (and damned if that name wasn't familiar...) was never easy, and my next story is certainly one that will interest many of whoever's reading: The Fight. Now I'm not much of a spearman, but I certainly learned how to be one on this fateful day. It all began when I was exploring this cliff face, right? --- The cliff was steep. Maybe a hundred foot drop from top to bottom, complete with sharp rocks and treetops at the bottom. Luckily, I was at the bottom of that mess, so falling wasn't the sort of thing to expect from this story. Perhaps it was the cold. Perhaps it was the boredom. Or perhaps it was simply the wanderlust that drove me out of my tent on slightly warmer winter morning to go off exploring, clothing in hand and backpack on, filled with my assorted electronics. My iPad had a fairly effective pedometer app, so I'd been using it alot to keep pace counts. The iPhone compass was ineffectual at first, but calibration via the sun's movement allowed a semi-accurate course plotting for long-distance travel. In less mumbo-jumbo: I figured out how to go places without getting lost. And no, I didn't need a big thing of string. Hey, that rhymed! As I made my way along the face, I had only one goal in mind: check out the nearest cave. Not exactly my best laid plans, but I was just so bored it was worth it. Listening to the same songs on your iPod got to your head after awhile, and no new artists were going to show up anytime soon across universes. Unless they joined me in Purgatory, I guess. The grass was beginning to poke out of the snow, and that was a good sign: these winter clothes really needed a good cleaning, and you couldn't easily do that and still stay warm. Always pray for the little things. Like -- oof. I whacked my head into a low-hanging rocky protusion. Those are always fun. Luckily it was right before a cave mouth, so I guess it's not all bad. I rubbed my head and stepped into the mouth, my iPhone already up and lighting the way, as I slowly trod into the cave. I wasn't sure what exactly compulsed me to do what I was doing, but as I slid my phone into the perforated strap pocket of my backpack, I noticed my heartbeat rising, and my white knuckle grip on my spear -- which had become a most trusty tool as time had gone on. Light bathed across the room, and my ears perked up for any sound. They were met with snores. My eyes went wide, and half my head said to escape. The other said to confront the danger. I went deeper, branching through several different sections of cave, only to finally come upon the source of the noise: a sleeping brown creature. I let out a harumph and turned to leave the creature to its devices. Only to hear a yawn from behind. My neck craned in the darkness, the light of my phone clearly illuminating a pair of eyes blinking in confusion, as they fixed directly on me. The creature slowly turned from confusion to anger, a deflation of sorts as both parties suddenly became very aware all of the sudden. What happened next felt like some sort of crazy videogame quicktime sequence. Tap X and O rapidly to escape the monster, running quickly. You tap the right stick upwards to jump over a rock outcropping, and hit up on the D-Pad to knock down a stalac-or stalag, whatever's on top, down into the creature's face as it chases in anger. Spin the stick to round a corner, letting go of the X to try and pivot on your right foot. As I exited the cavern, panting, the roars only kept coming. I hadn't done nearly enough exercise in the amount of time I'd been here, especially with the deer's calmness, so this Bear's danger was my first real exercise in danger since arrival. And it showed. I was wheezy, confused, and trickling blood from that head impact earlier. A great way to start a battle. The roaring intensified as it reached the open field near me, and I retreated into the trees, finding cover behind a log. I pointed my spear upwards and ducked down behind it. Sure enough, the bear came rocketing over, and a quick jab had it in the leg. Blood trickled, and I rushed in the opposite direction. The bear followed, obviously slowed immensely by the injury. What followed was a typical texas standoff, slowly circling the opponent and looking for weak points. Occasionally I'd try a jab and have to withdraw, or the Bear would make a strike and I'd try countering which scared it back. But, visibly, it grew more and more angry as the fight went on. "What, Beary? Mad I disturbed your slumber?" I said. It roared a challenge back at me, surprisingly, and I intensified my questioning. "Well too bad! It was my fault and you chased me when I was on my way out!" A paw slashed out at me, and I whipped the butt of my stick to parry, leaving the bear open for an attack. I made a poke to the chest, but it was badly aimed and slid down the spear's side rather than penetrating. A snap told me I'd accidentally broken the sharp end. Hardly where I wanted to be in a bear battle. It roared another challenge. "I told you, man! I didn't know you were in there." It mocked a snoring noise. I left myself open as I emoted. "Oh, so now snoring is supposed to be an e-" The bear, distracting me well enough with his roaring, suddenly struck at me. I was too far open, and felt a lance of pain and its claw dug into my side. Adrenaline turned pain into anger, and I brought a viscious strike down with my now-flat stick. A sickening crack told me I'd done more damage, overall. The beast reared away. I clutched at my side, my hands slick with blood. A roar was now little more than a groan, and it moved to come at me again. My slick hands struck out again, this time directly on the snout, another crack coming from something other than the impact. The bear 'roared' again, and I struck another time. It swung its paw wildly at my face, and I barely avoided losing an eye. I felt heat all up and down my face, though. And a wet trickle reached my lips, tasting of rust. My next strike was to the sternum, and the bear collapsed. My body bloody, my arms aching, and everything blurry, I tried navigating back to my tent. I barely made it before I lost consciousness. The infection was minimal, though, and I didn't bleed myself dry. Wherever that bear is, though, I'm sure he's still smarting from that fight. And one day we'll probably have a rematch. --- And oh, did we. But that part of the story is a hard one to tell. For it was the end to my stay in the woods, but it one I must tell regardless. A tale of pain, of confusion, and of revelation. It was the first time that little itch when I first met stache made sense, and explained most of the oddity in the world. From the lack of decomposition to simple things like bugs missing. And it all adds up to the little creatures I met on that fateful day when the snow finally melted. Especially the orange one, whose courage and trust may damn well have saved my life.