Witch, Wolf, Woods

CHAPTER 33: ACCEPTING THE IMPOSSIBLE

As Katja set foot on the opposite shore of the Neckar River, closer to the Schwarzwald than she'd ever been before, she kept waiting for something terrible to happen.

Would the air smell different?

Would things look and sound like nothing she'd ever experienced before?

Would she even be allowed to enter the forest?

Wolf, having no such qualms, trotted over to where the forest began and sniffed the ground.

"Well, the Waldkonig won't be difficult to track," he said. "I'm assuming we'll be going deep into the forest, but I'll keep an eye...er, nose...on the scent."

"That sounds good to me," agreed Katja. "Do you have any idea how long it might take?"

"I haven't been in the forest in a long time," reminded Wolf, "but to reach the deepest part of it from here, most likely a week, possibly a bit less. Traveling by day seems the safest, although," he glanced up at her, "I'm not sure there's any safety to be found in the Schwarzwald these days."

Katja nodded, staring ahead into the thick greenery before them, branches dripping with moss as vines tightened their curling grip around thick tree trunks.

This was it. There was no turning back.

Taking a deep breath, she stepped onto a shadow cast by one of the trees, before taking another step, and then another, until she was standing beneath the tree, every inch of her within the forbidden boundaries of the Black Forest.

Part of her was ready for a tree limb to shoot out and slap her back into the sunlight or some monster to suddenly appear made of twigs, tar, and vines, demanding she leave. She was surprised and even mildly disappointed when a bird sang out nearby, and the leaves rustled overhead.

Was the Schwarzwald really no different than the forest behind the castle where she'd gathered berries before?

Looking at a gnarled tree in front of her, Katja placed her palm against the peeling bark. It was brittle and scratchy against her skin, and she thought of all the hours she'd stared out her window, wondering what it would feel like to stand where she wasn't supposed to, to cross the bridge and enter a world forbidden to her kind.

And now, here she stood, waiting, wondering, excited, and terrified about what she might discover.

And that's when she saw it—the bark on the tree rippled.

She blinked, trying to clear her vision, recalling stories of the forest playing tricks on the senses, but there it was again! The bark rippled outwards and upwards, lifting and falling, scattering light in different directions as the entire tree quivered.

Watching the ever-widening circles rippling out from her hand caused something inside Katja to stir, a bloom poking its head above the soil for the first time, squinting against the sunlight, drawing its first deep breath, aware of a thousand things it had never experienced before.

Katja had always been able to sense the forest, but now, she found herself connected to it. Through where her hand rested against the tree, she could feel not only the individual tree itself, but those it was connected to through its root system, the other plants and mosses and fungi growing alongside it.

She could feel the forest breathing, inhaling and exhaling, could feel it shifting, parts that had been sleeping awakening, everything within turning its attention towards her. She could sense it as intimately as she could feel the metal she worked with.

She was surprised at the forest's curiosity as much as it was surprised by hers, since it wasn't used to people seeking to connect with it and had long since resigned itself to merely being experienced rather than sharing experiences with others.