Lonely Woodland Walk

The crunching of the autumn leaves rang out through the woods. The animals in the vicinity responded by receding into the thick of the trees, cowering away from the source. Birds called out; singing, crying, whining, all kinds of sounds came from them. Though, in the end, it all went quiet. 

The source of the disruption was, of course, Renevir. The honey and brown dog paced across the ground, tapped his foot, clutched his cloak—all to keep from shattering like glass. His legs stung and wobbled. Eventually, it all forced him to sit down. He felt the tip of his cloak catch on the bark of the tree, yet he did nothing about it. Silence overtook everything. No birds sang, no squirrels chirped, no footsteps approached, nothing. It was him, and only him.

Mother, father, are you watching me, wherever you are? thought Renevir. Or have you moved on already? 

A solitary leaf fell over Renevir’s face. He shook it off in a daze before he opened his eyes, getting a good look at it. The maple leaf was a fiery orange—vibrant and interesting in contrast to his own dull fur. The bark of the tree continued to dig into his back. He shifted around, but it didn’t go away—it instead cut deeper into his cloak. His body tingled and pricked at him to the point he wanted to cry out. Of course, nothing came of it. Instead, he got up again, allowing his cloak to tear for the reward of freedom.

Renevir set out without a direction—for if he didn’t keep wandering, keep his mind from drifting off, his heart would start to hurt again. A mouse sat on his path, shaking and turning its head. Its ears perked up upon his approach, and it skittered away, abandoning its place for the sake of avoiding him. He really was a bother. No other creature dared to make an approach. Well, not anything worthwhile. Some bugs started to crawl up his legs, ticking and disturbing him. He tried to shake them off, but it was to no avail, like everything else. Not that it mattered. The trees continued to crowd around—blocking his line of sight—and leaving him trapped in the wilderness.

I have no hope of getting back home. Renevir fidgeted with the stones on his necklace. I should have never left, especially not unprepared.

A few sudden creaks, a few unexplained sights, were enough to have driven Renevir to the woods. Why did he have to be so impulsive? There were no ghosts at home, right? His parents weren’t mad at him—weren’t haunting him—right? He was just being superstitious. Not that any of it mattered now. At the moment, he couldn’t even get home—no thanks to his paranoia. He was all alone. He had no one, nothing, to save him from himself. If only he could go out into the world, break free of his chains, and find the company he craved.

Why do I have to carry this burden? Renevir clutched onto his necklace. Mother, father, why did you do this to me? Why did you leave me?

As Renevir continued to wander, some sounds started to leak back into the desolate woods. Bugs started to buzz under their leaves. The faint chirps of squirrels could be heard in the distance, returning from their hiding, their cowering away from him. It was like the forest had returned to its old, undisturbed state. There was, however, a new addition to the chorus of noises. It almost sounded like people talking; voices reduced to whispers by the distance. Renevir’s ears angled towards the source. Towards his right, the trees were starting to part, almost as if the woods were fading into something else. Something in his heart twisted.

Is that the city? He walked towards the direction of the sound. Is this what my parents told me about?

Sure enough, as the trees parted, Renevir could see tall, white buildings in the distance. They were all too far away to walk to, though. As he continued to observe the city, he could see things moving, things that only looked like blobs to him. Were those people? As he squinted for a clearer view, he confirmed his suspicions. How were these people living their lives—having fun—so close to where he lived? He never knew the city was this close to home. It made sense, though. Of course it needed to be nearby; where else would his parents have gotten their groceries? Where else could his own supplies be delivered from? Still, his heart continued to twist and turn. There was a whole world, so many people, so close to where he resided, and he had never been part of it.

Could he break free of that? Could he, someone who didn’t know how to exist, join them someday?