.006 These Woods Are Lovely, Dark and Deep

[findmyownreason]

Once upon a time, for all good stories start with once upon a time, there was a great forest.  It stretched on for days, for countries, for unclaimed fairy tale after unclaimed fairy tale in fact.  This was the Great Wood, the Olde Wood, the Place Where All Things Start.  This was the forest of all the old tales and it will ever be, until men are legends that dogs tell each other around the fires at night.  Everything lives in the depths of these woods and nothing at all.  Be careful what you whisper when you go into the dark for even the trees are listening and stories have a way of happening here whether you want them to or not.

Deep in the darkness, in one of the less traveled spots, there lives a wolf.  The Wolf, if you will.  For he is the Big Bad, the Howler at the Door, the Winter Wolf, the Devourer, the Nightmare That Creeps In Windows, the Child's Warning and, occasionally, the Huffer and Puffer, though he's taken to outsourcing the last one after one particularly embarrassing incident involving a hay allergy.  He's the wise talking beast or the prehistoric feral fear.  He is, in short, whatever your story needs him to be.

Don't expect him to be particularly pleased or even helpful about it though.  He's been doing this job for a while now and he's getting sick of getting yanked out of rolling in dead animals just so that he can trot his fuzzy butt over to make menacing, half-assed attempts at your basket of treats and God help you if he has to dress in old lady drag One More Time!


OOC: so.  Here's Cloud to provide all your Big Bad Wolf TM needs.  Or frankly, the forest isn't above dragging him in to take over any animal need.  There appears to be a shortage of fairy animals going around at the moment, something about better paying jobs in Hollywood.  Does your story need a talking bear?  Suddenly you've got a snarky wolf as your guide.  Your brothers got the mill and all you got was a cat?  Well, it's a wolf now and it's not happy about having to wear boots or do all your work for you, you dolt.  Need that straw spun into gold by morning?  Looks like you're duck out of luck.  Wolves can't spin, though he does a very impressive cats cradle if you give him enough yarn and tie the knots for him.  Point being, if your fairy tale has an animal of any sort in it, you've now got a very grumpy wolf who can't say 'not interested' the way he'd really rather.  And, of course, he's still here for all your big bad wolfish metaphorical needs as well.

Comments

[findmyownreason]

She follows and it's a good thing. There's a small measure of atonomy when she's with him. Not enough to call the Forest off but enough to confuse it, at least for a little while. There are paths through the woods but Cloud doesn't take them, instead slipping silently between trees and shadows with the occasional glance backward to be sure his charge is following. His sense of hearing and smell let him skirt several dangers but he knows it won't last. Already, far beyond human hearing, he can hear the sounds of pursuit behind them. At least the first monster that comes dropping down out of the canopy overhead with a screech is alone.

the forest is so not good for her mental state. stupid traps.

[waterfell]

Blue-hood stops at once. She knows the forest is full of monsters, had even known she'd have to face them; but how, here where she doesn't know the land as she should, and where it's so strong and somehow she feels her power deserting her?

Any other time, that deeper core of herself would be telling her not to give up, finding that grit of anger and resolve to face this; but right now, somehow, it makes her unsettled and nervous enough to back a step away.

evil woods can do that, I've heard

[findmyownreason]

He doesn't expect her to defend herself even though there's a quiet, buried part of himself that is surprised when she doesn't. It's his job though, as her self-appointed protector and he's more than capable, lunging forward in a blur of shadow and gray. He's smaller than the monster by quite a bit but his compact frame is entirely muscle and it drives him into the beast with more than enough power to knock it over. Once it's off its feet, it's easy for Cloud to deal with it in a violent slash of fangs. He moves almost too quickly to see and even the glow of his blue eyes seems to blur and trail.

He's a protector. It also means he's a killer. He does it with brutal efficiency and without a sound. When he's done, he shakes and his coat scatters blood, his and the monsters. His wounds are minor. Lifting his head he looks back at the blue hooded girl and exhales through his snout before starting forward again, one eye on her, pace a bit more hurried now.

the dark kingdom forest isn't evil, it's just controlled by Kunzite. oh wait...

[waterfell]

It happened because of her, because she hadn't pulled herself together to fight for her own way out of this forest. The wolf is hurt; and she owes him a debt. He's a wolf, but there should still be something she can do.

She'd say it's just to clear the debt.

"I'll clean the wounds," she offers, a bit stiffly, "as soon as we're somewhere safe for it. Next time, I'll fight, too."

This may be the forest, she may not be in possession of her powers, but she can think sharply and still find a way to avoid the other monsters that dwell here, together with the wolf.

[findmyownreason]

He shakes his coat again. The wounds aren't bad, this time. He'll heal. He's more interested in getting her safely out of this place. Something tells him that she can heal him, something buried deep inside and so he takes her at her word. But first her freedom.

He isn't sure how she'll fight though. She doesn't have claws or fangs. He'd rather neither of them have to find out.

The sound of pursuit behind them though is growing louder.

She'd not going to be fast enough, trapped on two legs the way she is. Cloud is the Forest's Guardian and sometimes it's changed him in the past to suit its own needs. His form isn't as stable as it once way. He's not as stable as he once was. And so it's an easy thing to grow, spine elongating and strengthening, legs muscling even more in his lean mass. When he turns to her again, he's not exactly as large as a small pony - but he's closer to a small pony in size than a wolf. Doubling back to her, he plants himself in front of her legs sideways and rolls his shoulders. He can't talk but he catches at her cloak and tugs it across his shoulder. Two legs are two slow. Four are better.

[waterfell]

He can't mean to carry her...? She stares at the scrap of cloak in the wolf's mouth, and her eyes follow it as it drapes across him. He's asking her to surrender, to put her trust in someone else instead of herself, to rely on someone else's power. She isn't sure she can do that.

She isn't sure she has a choice. It's another question decided by necessity, but there's no time to dwell on that. She reaches out a tentative hand to touch the wolf, as if to accustom them to each other first. And she asks, finally, "Do you mean to carry me?"

[findmyownreason]

He stands stone still under her and it feels as if the world itself could shift around him before he would. Her touch lands on solid muscle under the soft coating of fur and his blue eyes glow as they watch her without blinking. If she chooses not to trust him he will still do his best to get her out of her. But it will cost them both dearly even if he can manage it. He can't force her onto his back though. In the end, it's her decision. It always is her decision.

A huff out of his snout and a quick dip of his huge lean head. It's now or never, Blue Cloak. There won't be a second chance.

[waterfell]

It's hard to trust, and she can't do it that quickly. This is a forest full of dangers and Blue Cloak knows that better than most. She also knows there isn't time to deliberate at leisure, considering all the pros and cons.

And so, as she does far too often, she makes the choice from her feeling that she simply wants to get away from here. She nods more firmly than feels, and swiftly climbs onto the wolf's back.

After all, she still has her weapon - and it'll be easier for her to reach for that and end the wolf than it will be for it to throw her off and turn on her.

"Let's go," she says simply once she's ready.

[findmyownreason]

All it takes is the final feel of her settling into place and he's off. Powerful muscles bunch and loose under the sleek line of his fur and it's not so much a lurch forward as the suddenly flowing of movement like water tumbling down rocks. He was built for speed and the world first rushes past and then begins to blur as he finds his rhythm. The monsters that were so close are suddenly far, far behind and the forest becomes darkness and moonlight, melting waterpaints and ice cold wind. The Forest has used him for it's own purposes far too long and now he cuts through it with innate familiarity. His loyalty to the precious cargo on his back.

[waterfell]

Ah- Even Blue Hood, known for being fearless, holds tighter as the wolf reaches dizzying speeds, but she's thrilled by it, tossing her head back, enjoying the feel of the motion and even more, the distance they're so rapidly putting between themselves and the dangers.

The very movement itself takes on a surreal quality, and she wouldn't be surprised to see them leap into the sky itself, or cross the forest in one more graceful, bounding leap.

It's chilly at the this speed, and she leans down closer to the wolf's massive body both for stability and warmth. Funny how she never notices just how cold she is until she realizes just how good something warm feels.

Wait. She can't let her mind drift away like that. She lifts her head quickly, takes stock of where they seem to be. The exit... It must be somewhere near here by now, but she's sure she came this way several times.

[findmyownreason]

She's come this way before several times but she hasn't come this way with Cloud. The magic loop of the Forest doesn't hold him because he knows what the real Forest feels like deep in his bones thanks to the way it's used him for so long and so he doesn't rely on sight or feeling, on outward appearances to know his way to its edge. The landscape around them jumbles, stretches and seems to tear, like ghosts caught in sharp wind, smearing and remaking itself with a sudden snap as they're past. Eyes that glow blue don't even seem to notice it, bent on the border of his worlds influence.

It comes up faster than would seem natural. One moment there's the thickest of trees and no end in sight and the next there's a sudden nothing. Nothing but grass and a small dirt path leading up and over star painted hills and, perhaps, something that glows in the distance at the end of that path like a welcome light home. Cloud's paws hit that invisible border and it snaps him to a stop as hard as if it had been a brick wall. He's lived too long in the Woods. It own his body now. But it has no such hold over the girl on his back and even as he crashes to an ungainly stop, he twists his body so that the force of it will throw her clear of the tree line and out into the safety of the meadow beyond.

[waterfell]

It happens too quickly for her to hold on, and just as the wolf had planned, the girl falls away. She scrambles to her feet before she realizes exactly what he'd done, and as the realization hits, she turns sharply back towards the forest.

There's no way to enter. He may have saved her, but he stayed there himself. She draws her cloak closer around her The forest stretches behind her, and the meadow lies ahead.

A few years ago, she might have run up to the treeline and tried to get back in to bring him out. She doesn't respect his gesture any less, but this time she honors it by not throwing it away. After a quiet moment, she turns to go.

good place to end?

[findmyownreason]

He picks himself up from the forest floor, body aching but already healing from the impact. He's a creature of the Wood and as long as he remains in it, he will never die, never not heal. But he will never leave or see beyond its dark border either. It's a price he considers worth it and, watching the girl, the one he knew he had to protect, had to keep safe, he doesn't regret it now either.

Come no more to the Wild Woods, Blue Cloak. Find your healing elsewhere. He sits, tucking his tail around his paws neatly, glowing eyes unblinking as they follow her. But know that the Wolf will be watching in case you do. He's a part of the Wood and he can wait forever.