The Lost
@born-of-dusk
Arika trudged down a well worn path through the woods in the village outskirts, clinging to her threadbare cloak with numb calloused hands. It was the third village in a row now that wouldn’t have her even in so much as a ramshackle barn, let alone lodging at the seediest tavern. Once again her beastkin features would force her to forage and seek shelter outdoors. Damn, she thought, the cold season is early this year. She pulled her hood over her pointed furry ears that sat atop her deep chestnut hair and shuddered as dead leaves crunched under her boots. The autumn twilight quickly darkened leaving Arika in the midst of eerie, cold, stillness. A clearing, I just need to find a clearing to set up camp then I’ll figure something out, she deluded herself into thinking. Perhaps it was the delirium from hunger or the chilling numbness the engulfed her that kept her from noticing the changes in her surroundings at first. The air was warmer, the foliage below her dampened, the smell was sweeter. She stumbled towards a pinhole of light that steadily grew and clarified, leaving her certain she had died in those woods. How else could she explain the welcoming sea of flowers she had found herself in? Surely this must be the afterlife. Right?
The field of flowers blew silently in the soft breeze, giving no answer to Arika's uncertain thoughts as a few startled pigeons flushed from the ground with cries of surprise. Should she look back from whence she came she'd find everything she'd passed moments ago gone, swapped with a new unfamiliar patch of forest entirely. The well worn path had now been replaced by a more temporary one of bent plant stems and flowers where someone had carelessly wandered through them. This path was headed East, toward a large brightly lit structure in the distance. It looked like the sort of fancy hotel you might see in a large city, but oddly there was only the one, as if it had been plucked from a large populous and set in the middle of this wilderness with no rhyme or reason. Nearby, in a cluster of trees to the West, birds had begun singing. However, the song wasn't the regular fluster of chirping, but a far more melodic tune. E D C G A F E D E D C G A D C B E D C G A F E D E D C G A D C A simple melody to be sure, but a melody all the same. It seemed mellow, and comforting. Had someone taught these birds how to sing this song? Or perhaps these birds were something altogether unusual. It might be worth investigating. Then again maybe... safer left alone.