Cottage. As Bram was
turning to follow Jazz, he stopped. “Hey Dad, where’s that path go?
That one, right there. It looks like it goes right into the woods.”
Bram ran to the trees.
Nettle’s ears pricked , as did Jazz’s. Both girls turned around,
curious. They followed Bram’s lead and caught up just as Bram made
it to the forest’s edge. In the cool shade of the quiet trees,
Nettle still had that tingling feeling she was being watched. She
pushed a fern’s frond apart and peered through.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Path
Through the Wilds
The wind ’s cold fingers whipped through the Wilds, ruffling leaves
and smacking branches. A sound much like wooden sailing ships,
their ropes groaning to be freed from the cleat, rippled through
the woods.
It was
like looking into an ink sketch. All dark shadows with motes and
tiny fluffy seeds floating in the pale silver light that managed to
filter through the forest’s thick canopy. A carpet of dark green
moss was tucked like a blanket around the foot of each tree, with
gnarled roots like horribly crooked feet extending out over the
undulating ground littered with fallen leaves. It was
magical.
The blood in Nettle’s veins thrummed like a plucked cello
with excitement. There, right in front of her, was the beginning of a
path.
The dirt
path cut through the forest, meandering along with the natural flow
of the forest floor, in bends and bumps, heading inward to be
swallowed up by the gloomy woods, until she could discern it no
longer.
The path
was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and strangely,
not a single bit of forest litter, not one crisp dead leaf, nor a
single tree root, blemished the pathway. The trail was so pristine,
it was as if someone had taken to it with a broom.
The path was
also incredibly inviting.
Her skin
prickled with anticipation and she was overcome with an
overwhelming urge to run through the trees. There was something
about being outside, surrounded by nature which had always made her
feel at home. Since before she could remember, forests and woodland
were comforting.
The idea
of finding where the path led enticed her. She gravitated without
thought, pushing past the fern and the long spiky grasses. She
desperately wanted to enter the cool moist shade of the woods. Her
foot wavered above the earthen path. As she was just about to take
her first step, a voice stopped her.
“ Nettle, come away from there.”
Fred’s
voice was like the sharp snap of fingers, gaining her attention
instantly.
She took
a deep breath and struggled to shrug off the insistent impulse. It
was terribly difficult to let go of the urge to walk beneath the
forest’s lush canopy. But she remembered her promise to her
father.
She slowly turned around with guilty eyes.
Her
father looked deadly serious. He stared hard at her. She gulped
uncomfortably, feeling as though she’d been caught doing something
naughty, which she supposed she had. Her voice was whispery, “Where
does it go, Dad?”
Fred
glared a little longer at his daughter, watching her shift uneasily
under his gaze.
“ I wouldn’t go in there,” Bram quickly interjected as his
father’s thick brows knitted together with irritation.
“Good.
No one should.” Fred hoped that his answer was enough until he saw
that all three of his charges were looking at him expectantly. He
sighed. “That path cuts into the Forgotten Wilds, deep into the
woods. The Forgotten Wilds, well, it’s just that - wild and
dangerous and not a place for any one of us.” He looked as hard and
stern as he could at each of the children. He even had Jazz’s
attention.
“ What’s in there?” breathed Bram softly.
“ Creatures who will tear you apart and pick tiny bits of your
flesh out of their teeth with your bones and save it for later.”
Fred saw that while Jazz and Bram were wide eyed and slack jawed,
Nettle looked dubious.
“What kind of creatures?” Nettle asked. This was different, not quite
the
turning to follow Jazz, he stopped. “Hey Dad, where’s that path go?
That one, right there. It looks like it goes right into the woods.”
Bram ran to the trees.
Nettle’s ears pricked , as did Jazz’s. Both girls turned around,
curious. They followed Bram’s lead and caught up just as Bram made
it to the forest’s edge. In the cool shade of the quiet trees,
Nettle still had that tingling feeling she was being watched. She
pushed a fern’s frond apart and peered through.
CHAPTER SEVEN
A Path
Through the Wilds
The wind ’s cold fingers whipped through the Wilds, ruffling leaves
and smacking branches. A sound much like wooden sailing ships,
their ropes groaning to be freed from the cleat, rippled through
the woods.
It was
like looking into an ink sketch. All dark shadows with motes and
tiny fluffy seeds floating in the pale silver light that managed to
filter through the forest’s thick canopy. A carpet of dark green
moss was tucked like a blanket around the foot of each tree, with
gnarled roots like horribly crooked feet extending out over the
undulating ground littered with fallen leaves. It was
magical.
The blood in Nettle’s veins thrummed like a plucked cello
with excitement. There, right in front of her, was the beginning of a
path.
The dirt
path cut through the forest, meandering along with the natural flow
of the forest floor, in bends and bumps, heading inward to be
swallowed up by the gloomy woods, until she could discern it no
longer.
The path
was wide enough for two people to walk side by side, and strangely,
not a single bit of forest litter, not one crisp dead leaf, nor a
single tree root, blemished the pathway. The trail was so pristine,
it was as if someone had taken to it with a broom.
The path was
also incredibly inviting.
Her skin
prickled with anticipation and she was overcome with an
overwhelming urge to run through the trees. There was something
about being outside, surrounded by nature which had always made her
feel at home. Since before she could remember, forests and woodland
were comforting.
The idea
of finding where the path led enticed her. She gravitated without
thought, pushing past the fern and the long spiky grasses. She
desperately wanted to enter the cool moist shade of the woods. Her
foot wavered above the earthen path. As she was just about to take
her first step, a voice stopped her.
“ Nettle, come away from there.”
Fred’s
voice was like the sharp snap of fingers, gaining her attention
instantly.
She took
a deep breath and struggled to shrug off the insistent impulse. It
was terribly difficult to let go of the urge to walk beneath the
forest’s lush canopy. But she remembered her promise to her
father.
She slowly turned around with guilty eyes.
Her
father looked deadly serious. He stared hard at her. She gulped
uncomfortably, feeling as though she’d been caught doing something
naughty, which she supposed she had. Her voice was whispery, “Where
does it go, Dad?”
Fred
glared a little longer at his daughter, watching her shift uneasily
under his gaze.
“ I wouldn’t go in there,” Bram quickly interjected as his
father’s thick brows knitted together with irritation.
“Good.
No one should.” Fred hoped that his answer was enough until he saw
that all three of his charges were looking at him expectantly. He
sighed. “That path cuts into the Forgotten Wilds, deep into the
woods. The Forgotten Wilds, well, it’s just that - wild and
dangerous and not a place for any one of us.” He looked as hard and
stern as he could at each of the children. He even had Jazz’s
attention.
“ What’s in there?” breathed Bram softly.
“ Creatures who will tear you apart and pick tiny bits of your
flesh out of their teeth with your bones and save it for later.”
Fred saw that while Jazz and Bram were wide eyed and slack jawed,
Nettle looked dubious.
“What kind of creatures?” Nettle asked. This was different, not quite
the
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