It was a blustery, grey sort of day, the kind of day where no sensible person would even dream of going out. Thankfully, I was not a sensible person, which was why I was a writer, and something in me cried to go exploring. I’d learned years ago that one should listen to the voice of desire every now and then, especially when it asked for something so inconsequential, and so I bundled up as best I could and set out.
There were lots of woods and tangled forests near the campus of my university and because I had only been there a couple of weeks, I hadn’t had nearly enough time to explore them all yet. I chose one large forest that was near the general pathway, not wanting to be out exploring all afternoon. The wind kept blowing hair across my eyes until, with some impatience, I stuffed a hat onto my head.
One or two crows cawed as I headed towards the fringe of trees. Startled sheep scampered away from me, as though I were some sort of stalking, foaming at the mouth predator with ill intentions. Every now and then, I tripped a little, for my tall rain boots were just a tiny bit too big.
The trees rustled overhead, like thousands of tiny hands that applauded as I cross the threshold. Dry leaves crackled underfoot for quite some time until I reached a small gate, and the ground gave way to grass again. The gate was stubborn and I had to wrestle with it. Finally, after scolding it thoroughly, it creaked open and I scuttled through, shutting it behind me.
The trees were only a few now, for there was an open field and a large rolling hill that curved around a pond, before meeting up with the rest of the forest. A small, barely worn footpath led me around the pond, on which I could see several ducks settling a disagreement.
The pond was pretty, but in a dark, creepy sort of way. It was a pond from which I could imagine Excalibur being given, and I stopped for a few moments to envision this. Then an indignant duck call brought me back to reality and I walked on to the rest of the forest. Another gate let me in.
Right away, I felt that this forest was different, though I wasn’t quite sure why. The small footpath continued through it, though moss had claimed several sections of it. The deeper I went, the darker everything became, the trees starting to meet over me so that I felt cocooned in. What little wind could make it through the branches whistled eerily, and I shivered. To my left, through thin, long branches, I could see the pond’s dark waters peeping through, and several frogs muttered insults in my direction.
After some time, I suddenly realized that I couldn’t see any light up ahead and that it must be late afternoon now. My heart began to pound as I shuffled backwards, hoping to see anything remotely resembling the pathway. Walking forward slowly, I cried out as a large blackbird flew out right in front of me.
Its’ sudden appearance snapped my last nerve and I turned back the way I had come. Illogically, panic began to take hold of me, though I tried to calm myself. I began to feel more and more scared, as though the forest was closing around me.
Finally, as I turned a corner, light suddenly shone through some bushes and I recognized the gateway. Like all of hell had been set loose upon me, I ran towards it, tripping several times over my infernal boots. Once I was on the other side, out of the woods, I fell to my hands and knees and took several deep breaths.
The strange feeling began to leave me and I had to laugh at how ridiculous I had been. I stood up and began to walk around the pond, but before I got anywhere, a shadow suddenly thundered by me and run up the hill.
Now, it was normal to see a horseman out along the road, but barely ever in the sheep fields. Not only that but the entire look of this horse and rider screamed, ‘not right!’ at me. The horse had a wild look to it, mane mostly loose and very long. It wore no saddle, though it had some sort of medallion hanging around its’ neck.
