Chương 8: Man and Fox

Ch. 08 - Man and Fox Loss and opportunity walk together hand in hand. The ability to [Level] compounds this, turning heartache bittersweet. You could strive, you could do your very best … and yet still not succeed. Perhaps it was a simple task, perhaps you failed to save someone important to you. Either way, the experience will [Level] you. You will become stronger, perhaps even gaining the perfect [Skill]. All so that next time, next time you will not fail. - from the writings of Steadholder Eckhart.

Wyatt set off, accompanied by the little fox on his pack, following the trail that the deer had made. He moved as swiftly as he dared, both caution and a lack of desire to find out the fate of his squad curtailing his pace. Wyatt was very much afraid that he was going to stumble onto the bloody remains of his companions at some point. It concerned him almost more than the chance of stumbling across the herd. It turned out to be a futile worry though.

Wyatt had forgotten what this forest was like, forgotten what had happened to them when they had first entered. History repeated itself as, to Wyatt's growing alarm, he saw the tracks he was following begin to fade.

"Shit, no!" Wyatt sped up, ignoring the concerned bark of the fox sitting behind his head. He abandoned caution, dropping into a swift jog, his eyes fixed on the ground, willing with all his might for the tracks to stay in sight … but it was in vain. He dropped his pace down to a walk, then stopped completely. Staring as the last signs that anything living had passed through faded completely, vanishing without a trace. Swallowed by the forest. Wyatt tilted his head backwards, closing his eyes.

Even [Lesser Fortitude] wasn't enough to entirely stave off the rising panic. They were gone — alive or not, it didn't really matter. The forest had claimed them either way. Claimed him too. If there was a way out, they hadn't managed to find it in all the days they had been wandering. His squad had never seen a sign of the other group that had set off at the same time, for all that they had entered the forest together. He couldn't help it, couldn't stop himself from trying, just once.

Wyatt took a deep breath, then cupped his hands around his mouth.

"Sam! Anders! Anyone! Can you hear me!" Wyatt yelled as loudly as he could, ignoring the little fox as it stiffened in alarm.

"Anyone! Is there … anyone …" Wyatt stopped, his chest heaving. He bit the inside of his cheek hard enough to taste the coppery tang of blood, then closed his eyes again. He forced himself to breathe, even and slow. Finding his centre like he'd been taught. He couldn't panic. Couldn't just react. He had to think. The silver fox let out a questioning bark, nosing the back of his neck. The rising tension broke as Wyatt flinched. He let the muscles of his body relax, felt the anxiety fading.

He wondered how much of his sudden calm was his own doing and how much was [Lesser Fortitude]. Wyatt craned his head back to look at his passenger.

"It's alright, I'm okay. I'm just … I'm okay." Wyatt looked around, still somewhat of a loss at what to do. He had been separated from his squad, maybe for good. He didn't even know if they were alive. However, his resolution from earlier still held true. He wasn't going to die in this place. Nor was he going to give up.

"Sorry, girl — Sam did say you were a girl, didn't she — can you get down for a second?" The fox obligingly jumped down to the ground. She sat, watching him intently as Wyatt shrugged out of his pack. He opened it, looking inside and taking stock of his inventory. He knew what was there already, but the act helped to ground him.

"Okay, I still have my pack and the staff. I'm putting the knife back on it before we set off, I think I have the cord in the front — ah. There it is. My seed bundle is alright … I'm filled up on water from before. There's still some tubers from a few days ago, but I should try to find more. And I have all this meat from the kill — enough for a few days at least." The little fox trotted closer and sniffed at his pack. She saw him handling the wrapped meat and yipped excitedly.

"Okay, maybe I only have enough for tonight if you're going to be sticking with me, you little glutton." The fox sniffed again, but this time managing to look offended. She turned and lightly swatted Wyatt across the face with her tail.

"Hey, don't be like that! I saw you eating before, remember? Okay. I'm in a decent position supply wise. And it's never been that hard to forage something to eat in here, even if it doesn't taste the best. But the main thing now is that I need to rest." It had been a long and fraught day — or longer, it was hard to tell in this place with no sunlight. Wyatt hadn't brought a watch with him when he crossed over into this world, hadn't ever wanted or needed one.

He'd regretted it though when they had entered this forest of perpetual twilight.

"Okay, I still have one use of my skill left. If it works, we'll head out. If not … well, I guess we'll have to make do. [A Safe Place to Rest]." This time the skill worked just as it always had. A certainty filled Wyatt, knowledge that there was a secure place to camp in that direction. It was hard to be sure without any markers for reference, but if he hadn't completely lost his sense of direction, Wyatt thought it might be the same location that they'd been heading to before the skill had failed.

Going by the relatively straight tracks left by the herd in relation to their original heading anyway. Wyatt spent a few minutes lashing his knife back onto his stave, and then shouldered his pack. He glanced down at the little fox.

"Still with me?" The fox opened her jaw in a silent laugh and then sprung back onto her spot on Wyatt's pack in a single leap. Wyatt felt a surge of relief at her easy companionship.

"Thanks. Okay, let's get moving." Wyatt headed out, walking under the endless canopy of the shadowed forest, dwarfed by the ancient trees that surrounded him. The silence seemed even more oppressive than it usually did without the tramping feet of four other people with him. But now it was just him. Alone, trekking through the forest. Alone except for the little silver fox. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

"I should really give you a name since you're sticking around." The fox yipped agreeably and then nuzzled at Wyatt's neck. She really seemed to enjoy making him flinch with her wet little nose.

"Hah, stop that! Well, I'll take that as a yes then. Let me think …" The two of them weren't too far from the place his skill was leading them too. The distance corroborated the theory that this was the same location that the squad had been heading to when disaster had struck. It was galling; they had been so close. Wyatt shook his head, dispelling his regrets. He couldn't afford the luxury of that kind of thinking. He took a deep breath, focusing on the here and now.

"You know … my Grandmother was Japanese. That's a country by the way, in whole other world. Not that it would mean anything to you, but don't tell anyone, okay? Anyway, she left her home when she met my Gramps. Heh, she always teased him, acting like she was holding it against him that he had stolen her away from her homeland. But I don't think she was being serious." The fox was silent as it listened. It curled its tail comfortably around his neck as Wyatt continued.

"She always wanted to go home though. Not for good, but just to go back. I don't think anything was stopping either of them from taking a trip — they just kept putting it off. And then the world went to hell. And she never got another chance." Wyatt's throat tightened up. He remembered his Grandmother's dry and cutting humour, her constant teasing. Her exacting expectations when teaching him. Her voice when she told him about the stories of her culture.

"I always liked it when she talked about the myths from her homeland. I was a bit lost when they took me in. After my parents … She'd tell me stories long into the night when I couldn't sleep. And you, you remind me of one of the yokai she told me about." The little fox let out a questioning yip.

"Yokai? Uh, they are sort of like monsters. Or demons. They — hey!" The fox had primly batted at Wyatt's head with her paw.

"Okay, sorry! You know, it's a bit crazy with how much you're following what I'm saying. I wonder … could that stag have understood us as well? I guess it doesn't matter now. Anyway, yokai. They were more than just monsters. It's like a blanket term for the supernatural creatures in Japan. Everything just kind of gets lumped in together." The fox sniffed pointedly, and then settled back down again. The tip of its tail was casually twitching back and forth as it lay draped around Wyatt's neck.

Talking to the fox like it was a person was comforting, like he wasn't truly alone. Wyatt realised he was being more open with the little animal than he'd been with any members of his squad in all the days that they'd been together.

"So, you remind me of her stories, one of the yokai. Except you only have one tail. But you do have powers, so it sort of fits. So I'd really like to give you a name from there, except …" Wyatt scratched at his hair, embarrassed.

"… I can't remember the names, except — hey, stop hitting me in the head! The only one I can remember is Inari, and I can't call you that." The fox stood up an her hind legs and draped her body on top of Wyatt's head. She leaned forward, peering down at him from above and barked excitedly. She patted him repeatedly on the head with one paw, making Wyatt laugh.

"No I can't. Why not? Because that's the name of a goddess. The goddess of foxes and, uh, other things? Can't quite remember. Anyway, I'm not calling you that." The little fox batted him again, this time demandingly.

"Sorry, but no! Besides, you're too small. I don't even know if you're fully grown or not." The fox slid down off his head and curled up sulkily. This time she didn't wrap her tail around his neck.

"Hey, don't be like that. It's not bad to be small. I wonder if you're out here on your own — you must be, you haven't acted like you have other foxes you want to get back to." Wyatt thought in silence for a few minutes as they made their way through the forest.

"Actually, what do you think about Kit. Kit would fit." The silver fox didn't respond at first, but then let out a questioning bark.

"You're unsure? It means a young fox. So you see how — ow!" The little fox had leant forward and carefully taken the lobe of Wyatt's right ear between her teeth. She didn't squeeze down or apply any pressure, but he was very aware of her needle-sharp teeth. Wyatt was careful not to move his head as he spoke quickly.

"Hold on now, it doesn't just mean that. It can be short for Kitsune! That's the name of the spirit foxes from my Grandmother's stories. Okay?" The fox paused, making a low rumbling sound deep in her throat. Then she carefully let go of Wyatt's ear, and even nuzzled at his neck in apology.

"You like Kit? That's a relief! Well, Kit, it's great to officially meet you. I'm Wyatt, since I haven't formally introduced myself to you before." The newly christened Kit let out a laughing staccato whine, making Wyatt grin in turn.

"Yeah I know. So my skill is telling me that the safest place to rest is just up ahead. Do you sense anything wrong? I'm not, but it can't hurt to ask." Kit didn't respond, but just swished her tail around idly.

"Good enough for me. It's been a damn long day. Or night. Or whatever it actually is. And I don't know about you, but I'm starving. Kit pawed at the fastening of the pack excitedly.

"Yeah, there's enough for you, don't worry. Although you might have to help out finding food after it's gone. Okay, it's just up ahead, just past this tree, and then we can—" Wyatt came to a dead stop, staring. Ever since he had first entered the forest, everything had been roughly the same. Dark, loamy leaf litter underfoot without a trace of stone or rock. Huge trees towering on all sides, the dancing, glowing lights the only form of illumination.

The scenery varying so little that he may as well have been in a featureless desert for all the good it did in providing waypoints. Even the trees themselves were spaced roughly the same distance apart! But now, Wyatt was looking at something different. Something that wasn't part of the natural environment. Something that had been built. Constructed. Wyatt was staring at an elevated mound of earth, a shocking sight in of itself since everything here was so relatively flat.

It rose above the forest floor perhaps ten feet and looked to be roughly forty feet wide. It hunkered down amongst the trees, a skulking oddity, but that wasn't the main feature that caught Wyatt's attention. There, in the centre of the raised earth, was an opening. An entryway, constructed of heavy, roughly hewn stone blocks, forming a primitive arch. The opening was squat and low — Wyatt would have to stoop down to enter — and he could see nothing of what lay inside.

It was a featureless black void, so heavily wreathed in shadow that it hid all. The mound itself put Wyatt in mind of nothing short of a barrow, an ancient burial site. A tomb that had been reclaimed by the earth over countless years until it took on aspects of the natural landscape. There was no door that Wyatt could see, not even the remains of one.

"Kit, do you know what that is?" Kit let out a low and warning growl. Wyatt thought she was trying to answer his question, but then she leapt down from his pack. Kit hunkered low to the ground, still growling, staring at something that Wyatt had missed at first. There, pressed up against the side of the barrow, was an odd spherical shape, partially hidden by shadow.

"What's that? Kit?" Wyatt peered ahead, trying to work out what he was looking at. [Danger Sense] wasn't going off, so he wasn't at risk — at least not immediately. What he was staring at looked nothing so much as a hulking featureless blob. Wyatt was about to conclude that it was a strange plant or something, when it moved.

"What the hell?" Just saying it moved wasn't entirely accurate. It kept its round shape, moving in a hunching, rolling fashion — expanding and contracting as it oozed its way out of the shadow. Wyatt took an uncertain step backwards. It definitely wasn't a plant. What he was looking at was large, perhaps a bit higher than Wyatt's waist, a gelatinous being that looked entirely featureless.

"Is that one of the things David wouldn't shut up about? He ran through what sounded like an entire made up bestiary when we first got stranded here. A slime? Slime monster?" The creature — the fourth that Wyatt had seen since they'd entered the forest — was a deep blue in colour. It wasn't exactly see-thru, being mostly opaque, but there was a refraction of shadow within its body that suggested that it could be if there was more light.

It didn't appear threatening, in fact it didn't seem to even realise Wyatt and Kit were there. The slime ambled around the barrow, hunching along until it reached the entrance. Then it went inside, vanishing from view. Wyatt hesitated. [A Safe Place to Rest] was still active as he hadn't technically arrived yet. Which meant that even with the slime's presence, it was safe to move forward.

"What do you think, Kit?" Kit looked back at him, and wrinkled her nose. She sneezed.

"I guess we can at least check it out. Maybe it's friendly. Let's be careful though, okay?" Wyatt and Kit walked into the final clearing, his skill silently letting him know that they had arrived at the destination. They approached the barrow, senses on alert. Ready as they could be.