They were a singular god. A minor god, They could have been, were there a pantheon for Them to belong to. Not man, not woman, not in between. Not flesh, not energy, but still something.Ā
They tread the cold forests, Their antlers covered in frozen dew. They cry and yelp at the moon and sun, at the dead leaves crunching beneath Their hooves, or the burs that stick in Their moss-covered fur. Everyone who hears Their cry has trouble describing it, the problem made worse by how few those people are.Ā
One man found Them in Canada, the part thatās still wild and terrifying. He heard Their cry from no farther than ātwo soccer fields away.ā The sound occurred suddenly, as though it had just started, but it hadnāt, the man claims. āIt was loud.ā He says. āThatās all I can think to call it. When I heard the crying, it soundedā¦ like it had already started. You know how you can always sorta tell? Like, how people getting cut off while talking in plays always soundsā¦ unnatural? It was like that. Iām embarrassed to admit I tripped on a root and rolled down the path when I heard itāAnd, just like that, silence. When I climbed back up the hill, the moment I reached where Iād fallen, the sound came back.ā
That man went no closer, freezing in place and waiting for the sphere of sound to move away from him, and freezing again whenever he found himself back in it.
A woman found it in Norway, crying at a lakeās edge. āIt had thawed for the summer.ā She said. āThe lake. They were facing the lake, though thatās kind of an understatement. Itās arms were thrown back and its chestā¦or chestā¦ area, was pushed out like it wanted to fight the water. I saw Them from my cabin. They must have been able to see the cabin, but They treated itā¦ and me, like part of the scenery. Iām sorry.ā After that, she kept saying she didnāt want to talk about Them anymore.
She was pushed, though, to reply to one more question. She was asked why she called Them āThemā, instead of āit.ā Usually with these things, thatās the way people talk about it. āBecauseā¦ā Her breath shook as she inhaled,Ā āIts donāt cry like They do.ā
The other, and most recent to see Them was a child in Canada, though far away from where the first encounter had been. She, a little girl of nine, speaks candidly about the event, but refuses to describe much. āThey walked right past me when I was lost in the forest. They were crying loud, but talking under its breath too. They said the Earth made Them because it was lonely, but not to be friends.ā When asked how They were supposed to fix the Earthās loneliness without being its friend, the child loses interest in the conversation. She always sings afterward. The song creeps me out.
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