Waiting for Spring - Part I

Chapter Seven

I watched them today again. I'm afraid that that mongrel dog will catch my scent one day and that'll be the end of it. I saw Cindy today, and her sister, Merrill I think her name is, help delivering a calf. Third one this season. The old man Samson seemed proud when I came by with the grain. They have such a nice farm, but they should move. Come winter and the Sands will swallow them, as they did mine. Mayhap not this year or not even the next, but the day will come. I asked to see her, Cindy, but he refused me. If I could just get her to see me I would convince her to leave this wretched place. She could take her sister with her, and the bitch. Everything is better in the west.

-A torn and sun-bleached journal found in the Sands.

April awoke by the small raindrops that fell from the leaves on the great oak which roots she had occupied during the night. Her bedroll had felt hard and uncomfortable, but the few couple of hours of sleep had felt like cooling water in a desert. She wiped the beading off her forehead and stood up, looking around. It was drizzling again. She rolled up her bedroll and strung her bow.

April traced her steps back to the path she had found after her decent. Exhaustion had found its way through her body only hours after her little climb and the great oak that she had seen from atop the rock had been so enticing. Its clammy roots had not been as inviting as the tree itself though.

April believed herself to still be in some kind of chock. When the moon had ascended and she had lain there she had felt nothing when thinking of what had happened. It was the calamity of her life and yet nothing. Surely nothing more could be worse.

The path continued forever. The sun had begun to rise behind the dark clouds on the autumn sky and the trees and bushes passed April's sides, like an endless corridor.

After an hour or so the trees ended and she found herself on a large meadow. It was in reality more like an immense glade, but it was still beautiful. April was not familiar with the landscape outside the central of Berry Forest. Flowers of different kinds appeared to smile at the rising sun from where they shoot up in the butter coloured grass. They would soon die, be buried underneath the white snow and suffocate. Die just like everyone else had. April kicked a tussock in frustration. The feelings began to come back. Maybe she wasn't in chock at all. Maybe she was just about to be crazy. With quick steps she marched over the grass, following the beaten track towards the trees on the other side.

April had figured out that she had to spend at least one more night in the forest before reaching the fringe. Her estimation, however, could be incorrect. At any rate she was determined to find a cave this time. More trees passed along with the hours.

At one point April arrive at a swamp. Ill stench surfaced it and the trees around it were murky and full of discoloured lichen. Unwilling to get her boots soaked she had, with great drudgery, tried to find her way around the mire. The trees seemed menacing when she used them as support for her climbing as the marsh tended to be a bit uneven and full of slopes. Many of the trees were dead and gouged. It all felt ominous and obscure. April wondered what place this was. It was surely on its way to dilapidate and the rancid stench that emerged from the livery water was overwhelming. It shouldn't, however, as the woods around the mire was flourishing. In the end, after an hour of tracking and climbing, she had ended up wet and grimy anyway, and rather lost. The path was found half an hour later and April's boots made a tacky sound during every step she took.

Murmuring water could be heard in the far-off distance. Water, fresh water. It was very apt. April shook her waterskin and realised that it was on the brink to emptiness. She could not recall drinking that much though. Leaving the path she followed the tempting sound. Brooks with fresh water was no rare sight yet April had not encountered any today, none that she remembered anyway. The sound became clearer with every footstep and at last she found it. The trees here were still green and had not lost many leaves. The translucent water rushed above the rounded stones in the brook itself. April felt it with her hand. It was cold. She lowered her waterskin and let the unsullied water pour into it. The water felt so refreshing and cold inside her mouth. She could feel how she regained her strength. It felt even better than the bread she ate in the morning. Odd that water could have such effect.