Nature is shifty. It takes advantage of how comfortable you are in your surroundings. Humans make the mistake of believing they know best, but nature is there to remind you, at precisely the wrong time, that nature was here first.
Lalani wasn’t in the habit of believing she knew best about anything. She had never been deep in a forest’s belly. She certainly had never been on the slope of a mountain.
She followed My-Shek cautiously at first, but then became so focused on bringing all of the shek home that she forgot to be afraid. She called to them—“Here, shek, here, shek”—but they didn’t come. They bowed their heads to the grassy slope and nosed around for food. When Lalani got close enough to grab one by the loose skin around his neck, he shook her off and they all hurried away.
She followed them. She didn’t think about how long she’d been walking until she noticed that her feet ached and she saw a tree with golden leaves. Had she seen such a tree before? How far had she come, anyway?
Bosalene and the loomers were behind her somewhere. But then, why couldn’t she see the pitched roofs of their houses, or any houses for that matter?
She looked up, up, up. The trees stretched on forever. And the sky was growing dark. Not as dark as midnight, no. But the world around her was gray. She hadn’t noticed that until now. The tree canopy blocked the sun. It was still hot, but not as overwhelming as before. In any other circumstance, she would have taken comfort in that.
She hugged herself and turned around. The shek were still visible, oblivious to the danger they were in. (They were in danger, weren’t they?) She spun in slow circles. Even if she corralled the shek, how would she lead them back? Why hadn’t she thought this through?
It was so quiet. There was no wind to rustle the leaves. No birds flitting from branch to branch. Just the sound of her breathing and the muffled sound of the shek eating.
“It’s okay,” she told them, though they didn’t seem to need comforting. “You didn’t go far.”
She had no idea if that was true or not.
She stopped spinning.
She had no idea what to do. She had no idea what her next step should be. She stood still, waiting for an answer, even though she didn’t know where it would come from. Maybe the mountain beast would give her one, just before he gobbled them all up. An image popped into her mind. An ugly image. The mountain beast, coming after her with sharp, hungry teeth. Mouth frothing like the shek’s—from hunger, not thirst. And his claws. Oh, his claws! Then, a growl. Your eyes. Your eyesssssss. Because that’s what the mountain beast wanted. That’s what he always wanted.
Eyes for his supper.