4. Rhune
Rhune
What does a human female like to eat?
I’ve never interacted with any of the human kind directly, but I’ve witnessed many male hunters in the woods killing deer and the like, so I know her species eats meat, at the very least.
The souls of the beings that dwell in The Far Place taste pretty foul to demons, but I’m hoping the flesh is better and will be acceptable for her human palate until I can take a trip back to the living realm.
The storm was bad when I brought my human to my home, but in the short time since, it’s tripled in strength.
Flurries of snow whip around me violently, clinging to the tops of my wings and frosting the tips of my lashes.
I can see no more than a hand’s length in front of my nose, and I’m having to navigate the landscape by muscle memory and scent alone.
My muscles have grown sluggish, my fingertips numb, and no matter how much I will my wings to pump faster, they refuse.
It’s all I can do to keep them moving, to fight against the frigid storm.
The suit I wear is imbued with magic and helps keep out the worst of the cold, but even still, it creeps beneath my skin and causes me to shiver.
Experiencing these conditions firsthand, I’m even more grateful that I was able to get my Willow to safety when I did. Gods only know what would have happened to her if she was caught in this snowstorm. I’m beginning to feel the effects of the weather, and my body was designed to thrive in it.
Unable to see through the dense flurry, I tilt my body downward, my wings outstretched and glorious as I glide lower to the ground. I sail beneath the canopy of the welwig forest, adjusting my speed so I don’t accidentally smash into the thick, twining branches.
My wings flap hard against the air, stopping my forward momentum and allowing me to float softly to the frozen ground. As soon as my feet touch the ice, I take in a deep breath, enjoying the little bubble of tranquility.
The welwigs grow so tall and thick in this part of The Far Place that they completely block out the snow and wind—making it a perfect spot to escape the storm. As long as you’re not scared of monsters, that is.
There are horrible creatures that live in the heart of this forest. Things that would give me nightmares.
Things that I have only ever heard of in whispers and dreams. I have no desire to ever come across one of these beings, so I will be sticking to the perimeters to look for food for Willow.
The beasts that roam this portion are far less formidable.
Speaking of beasts…
I gaze to my left, spying the fuzzy pink head of my familiar peeking out from behind one of the welwigs. Once he notices that I’ve spotted him, Sasu tips his nose into the air, letting out a happy chitter.
“Did you come to give me company?” I crouch down, holding my hand out, and Sasu jogs toward me.
He presses his forehead into my palm, and I give him a few gentle scratches, grinning as his eyes flutter closed.
I’m not entirely sure how me and Sasu came to be bonded—I don’t know if anyone is alive who does—but I’ve grown to love his company over the decades we’ve been together.
He’s an odd-looking creature with his bird feet and bread-shaped, fuzzy body, but he’s my weirdo.
The tiny pink capybara has kept me company when I needed it most, and has given me a reason to smile on the darkest days.
Before I met my Willow, he was really the only thing that made me happy.
Now that I have my mate in my bed, there will be twice the love and happiness to go around.
Newly invigorated with thoughts of my mate, I begin looking for food.
I roam the woods for some time, searching tirelessly for a hint of movement, listening for a creak or misplaced footstep.
There is nothing. No scurrying eesle, no tweeting craws.
Even the flaylings have abandoned their homes, and no matter how many tree cavities I gaze into, I cannot find anything for my mate to eat.
The longer I search without finding anything, I begin to fear that I will fail to get her anything to eat. All of the lower creatures in The Far Place seem to sense this wrongness in the air. It’s as if they’ve all fled—terrified of the approaching unknown.
Half the reason I went to the human realm in the first place was because I couldn’t find anything to hunt near our dwelling. Now, I’m horrified to discover the forest is similarly devoid of creatures.
I’m also feeling incredibly weak. I never did get to eat on my trip to the human realm, and the struggle against the elements has left my muscles weak and bones aching.
There is a hollowness in my abdomen that has been there for the better part of the day, and the gnawing pain grows stronger with each passing moment.
I usually prefer not to eat the souls of the creatures that dwell in The Far Place due to their foul taste, but I would gladly do so now.
If only I could find something.
“Where has everything gone?” I wonder. Sasu lets out a sad little chirp, and when I look at him, he’s pawing at the base of a welwig.
I shoo him away so I can investigate what he was digging at, and see he’s managed to strip away the top layer of bark.
Dark, viscous blue sap bleeds through the wound, standing out against the stark white hue of the bark.
“Bad Sasu,” I grumble, turning away to reprimand my familiar. “Very bad Sasu.”
Before I can say anything more, the tree lets out a deep, shuddering groan—powerful enough to shake the ice beneath my feet.
I gaze back toward it and notice the sap has changed to crimson.
It’s pouring from the cut at an alarming rate, coating the trunk and staining the ice with the color of human blood.
“What the…” I scoop Sasu off the ground and retreat, keeping my eyes on the growing red pool as if it will come alive and attack us.
Sasu chitters angrily, demanding he be put down, but I hold firm, knowing if he really wanted to, he would teleport away from me. “Hush. I’ll put you down soon. I just want to put some distance between us and… whatever that was.”
Once I’m satisfied that we’re a safe distance away, I place Sasu down, trying to shake off the feeling of unease that’s crept over me. It’s under my skin, buried deep in my bones, and with every breath I draw, I’m overcome with the paranoia that it could be my last.
Danger. Wrong. Get out.
I’ve felt it in the air for some time now—this indescribable sensation that something isn’t quite right—but this day, the feeling is so strong that I can’t ignore it.
I can’t put my finger on what it is that’s making me feel so strange, but I’m willing to bet what I just witnessed is connected to it somehow.
I’m also positive that it can’t be anything good.
I should tell Cin about it.
He’s the smartest of my soul-brothers—and also the most unhinged.
He spends half his days holed up in his workshop doing gods-knows-what, and the rest of his time reading.
I’m sure he’s learned something in one of those dusty tomes that could explain what I saw.
He’ll know what’s wrong. He’ll know what to do.
Right now, I need to push my anxious feelings down and focus on what really matters—my mate.
I would like to go back to Willow’s world and get her human food, but that’s not possible.
The mysterious portals open in random places, and only stay active for a short time before vanishing, just to pop up somewhere else.
It’s hard enough to find one on a good day.
There’s no way I would be able to in these conditions.
Not to mention the toll it would take on my body…
I feel fine right now, but I know deep down, my soul is still strained. If I go back now, I could risk being torn apart.
I need to find food here. There’s no other option.
Pushing my fear of failure to the back of my mind, I pull my shoulders back and continue my search for sustenance that might appease my human.
“Which way should we go, Sasu?” I ask, gazing down at my companion. “Where would we find food?”
Sasu chirrups and takes off deeper into the forest. Sighing, I have no choice but to follow and hope I don’t come across anything that is also looking for food.
Sasu stops at the foot of a welwig tree, tipping his snout in the air and sniffing. When I don’t move fast enough, he paws at the ground and lets out an angry chitter, letting me know how unhappy he is with me.
“Relax. I’m coming!”
As soon as I get to him, Sasu darts around the trunk, disappearing from my sight.
When I follow, I’m stunned to find him standing next to a baby antethorpe.
Its impossibly long neck is curved protectively around its middle, tan fur matted and coated in ice.
The creature is shivering pitifully at the base of the tree, no protection or warmth that it needs to survive.
My blood turns to ice as I slowly back away. “Sasu… get away, now…”
While I’m not worried about the baby, per se, I am concerned about the fully grown female that could be lurking around the corner. Mother antethorpes are incredibly territorial of their young, and they are some of the most vicious creatures in The Far Place when they sense a threat to their fawn.
I duck behind a tree, gazing around the shadows for signs of the mother. But, it appears even she has left. In fact, it looks like the herd has left it behind completely.
Feeling braver, I move close to the long-limbed creature. On closer inspection, it seems the creature has a broken leg—a severe injury that would make it nearly impossible to walk.
No wonder they left it. This is a death sentence…
I feel something akin to sadness as I gaze down at the fuzzy young one. To be left by one’s family when one is in their greatest moment of need… It is unthinkable.
Still, my mate needs to eat, and this is a convenient source of food.