Brave Reborn (OUAT/Peter Pan Fanfic)

Chapter 5

I saddled up Angus and rode him into the forest. I started to weep on the ride, so didn't control Angus very well. My vision became blurry again. Tears running down my face, like the water flowing through the drains. They were rubbing fresh salt into my open wounds. Branches scratched my skin.

I could feel the heat of the summer sun beating down on my back. The leather reins rubbed soon-to-be blisters between my fingers. Angus beneath me was just as done with this journey as I was, his neck was lathered in thick sweat, curling the short, stiff hairs of his summer coat. Foam leaked from the corners of his mouth from working with the copper snaffle. 'A little bit more, buddy' I thought to myself as I gave him a pat on the neck and picked up the reins, trotting off. His thick mane bounced with his stride. I shifted my weight to my outside hip and dug my heel into his right side, he picked up the lead in perfect rhythm.

Before I knew my body was thrown into the air and hit the earth. I scolded at Angus. He started to panic. Not because I was mad at him, because of where we were. I looked around. I saw large stones surrounding me. I rose and looked around. My mother told me about the Ring of Stones.

Then, at the corner of my eye, I noticed a blue, glowing figure, floating above the ground. I came closer to it.

"A wisp," I whispered.

I heard that a Will o' Wisp can lead you to your fate. I only saw them once, long ago.

As I came closer to it, it disappeared. I followed them into a deeper, darker part of the woods. I tried to make Angus come with me, but he was backing away, almost telling me not to go. I tied him up to a tree and I follow the trail of wisps into the dark forest. 

The forest was ancient. The trees thick and old, roots that were twisted. It might once have been filled with bird-song and animals that roamed. But now it was aged past its former glory. Its canopy was so dense that you could only see the occasional streak of sunlight that rarely touched the forest floor. Even its thick vines were slowly taking away the last remnants of the temple that stood in the centre.

When the path ended, I looked up to see a little cottage. A small, simple cottage, nothing special. The cottage hunkered low on the moor like a child in the elements trying to keep warm. The sides were the same grey slabs as the low walls in the dales and the roof was covered with a patch of dead grass. 

 I walked towards and knock on the door. An old woman opened and let me in. The entire room made me uncomfortable because there were millions of carvings of bears.

"Oh, look around. You holler if you see anything you like. Everything is half off." said the woman.

"Uh...who are you?" I said confused.

"Just a humble woodcarver."

"Um...I don't understand."

As the old woman is showing me her bear wood carvings, I heard some sweeping. I turned around noticed the old woman's broom is sweeping the floor by itself.

"Your broom!" I gasped.

The old woman snaps her finger and the broom falls to the ground.

"It was sweeping by itself!"

"That's ridiculous! Wood cannot be imbued with a magical property. I should know, I'm wi—whistler of wood!" Defended the old woman, who I now believe was a witch.

As I was about to touch the witch's crow,  the witch informed, "That's stuffed."

As I slowly extend my hand to touch the crow it suddenly snaps its beak and speaks, "Stay off the crow!"