• Published 19th Sep 2015
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Lupine Tree - wille179



Pinocchio wasn't the only wooden puppet to become a real person.

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Prologue - A Voice in the Forest

For as much as fire terrifies me, I think I was born aflame.

I awoke to the sensation of burning. Every last part of my body shuddered from the pure, unadulterated agony I felt in every fiber of my being. It was so all-consuming that I remember nothing about that time save for the pain. Did I scream? Did I panic? I don't remember.

But when the burning agony vanished, I felt a clarity that I had never before experienced. In the days that would follow, I would find that my memories were clear and sharp, that I could think faster than I had ever before, and that I understood everything. Puzzles that had stumped me before suddenly were non-issues. Traps, an idea that had never occurred to me before then — not that I could have understood the concept before that day — suddenly let me gather far more food than I had ever been able to before.

Days, weeks, months, years... the concept of time had been alien to me before the burning, and yet now it seemed so incomprehensible to me how I could have functioned without it before.

Animal. That word — what lovely things, words — popped into my mind. I suppose that must have been what I once was, although it doesn’t seem to quite fit. I’m something else now, something new.

Person.

Another word. This one, I feel, fits me better now than animal did back then. Yes, I am a person, I think.

I think, therefore I am.

Another set of words. I remember them occasionally. This one seems to describe me. Why I remember them, when I feel that they have never been spoken to me before, when I have never been spoken to at all, I do not know.

But they comfort me. Why? Because I exist.

I. Me. A person.

I have an identity.

I don’t have a name, though. My kind don’t need names. But I want a name. Can I name myself? Or is that something your parent needs to give you?

What’s a parent?

Oh. I remember. I don’t remember having one of those. I suppose that means that I can name myself.

Name. A collection of sounds and symbols that describes the who the name belongs to. I couldn’t think of a name at first, but I remembered one eventually.

Title. A thing that is like a name, but describes what a named thing is, instead of who it is.

Pun. A pun is an interesting thing. The existence of that idea meant that words could be played with. I’d never played with anything before and I didn’t have anything else to play with at the time, so I played with words.

And then it came to me. I knew what I was titled before. I know who I am now.

I name myself Jack.

I was a timberwolf.

I am a wooden person.

I am Lumber Jack.