The Sentinels but the well is dry

When had she become so obedient?

Visala asked herself the question repeatedly each day, cursing herself as she waited for an answer. But today, sat in a territory she barely knew, she found it; the truth was that she always had been. It was what she relied on. She hadn't remained here because she wanted to, rather because Sam had insisted on it, because she needed a safe place to wait. She listened to her siblings for similar reasons, Nayavanti too. There was no other option.

She wanted to go home. Not to the islands, but home, her real home. The one she had been born to, where her parents and siblings made her feel safe. She would not speak for the wolves here, not ever, excpet maybe Sam. He was a special case, someone she had bared her soul to out of necessity.

Laying down to tuck her limbs beneath herself, Visala wondered if her frustration would have her weep. She was tired of her world feeling so small.

Sam had not expected a forest. Walking through a forest was fine – perhaps an overnight stay. But you couldn't just set up camp in the woods like you owned the place, and this is exactly what the members of the Viridian Sactum had done.

Solenya and her crew had their own beliefs, and because he was grateful, Sam had strangled his horror when none of those included appeasing the Huldra. Sam was a boy of many mistresses, all of them cruel,  but this one was an ageless forest monster that would flay them all in their sleep if he did not do something – fast.

The Ghost was easy to track down.

She had been 'off' since they had crossed into the sanctum, hanging out by herself and refusing to interact with the wolves that were their ticket to a solid meal. Sam made a begrudging note to ask her if she wanted to talk, but now was now the moment for feelings and nonsense. Time was of the essence.

"Ghost," Sam whispered urgently at the bundle of wolf on the forest floor, skidding to a halt in the dense leaf litter. "We need to find the heart tree and make an offering to the forest Huldra or we're totally toast. Quickly!"

Her pouting is interrupted by Sam, crashing through the forest blubbering about a 'heart tree' and a 'huldra', neither of which Visala has ever heard of. What? She is quick to respond with. His tone gives the impression that there's reason to panic, but she hasn't heard or smelled anything worth worrying about.

What's a heart tree? She understands the general idea from the name, she thinks she does anyways, but she doesn't understand why Sam is so desperate to make an offering to a tree.

"Heart tree," Sam repeated impatiently,  giving Visala's rear a rough nudge – this was not a shit-down-chit-chat mission. "You'll know it when you see-ssssmell it." Infinitely smooth. Sam hurried to cover his blunder. "You're magic, aren't you? You listen. If that's true, like really,  I need you to listen out for... I guess the boss tree?" The Witchwood heart tree had been old, but not the oldest. Sam wasn't entirely sure what set it apart.

Sam had helped her out more than once now, so she would indulge him. Visala moved to a stand at his nudge, stumbling forward. Alright, alright, just calm down. She sighed, choosing not to comment on his little slip-up. I'll help you look for the tree.

The problem was that she had no idea what would qualify the tree as special. Maybe if she just walked along with Sam he would spot it on his own. I'm not the offering though, right?

She was being exceedingly nice considering Sam was asking her to use a skill he had recently dismissed as hard-boiled baloney. His own inherited superstitions made no more sense – a vindictive invisible something that lived in every forest? Sure.

Sam pressed their shoulders together – a habit he had formed very quickly, steering their bodies as one eight-legged beast. He flashed the Ghost a mortified look that she could not see when she asked about his intended sacrifice. "What? No, you're my friend." Somewhere along the road, this had become fact.

She felt her heart ache at Sam's words. Visala had thought herself as more of a nuisance than a friend; maybe because she had never really had a friend before. Alright, just making sure. She felt a smile crack her face, all too happy for him to lead her along.

She hadn't expected something like this from Sam - she sort of assumed that he didn't believe in anything that was all spiritual and witchy sounding, which this definitely did. Will you get me a crab after this? It was worth a shot, given they were friends now.

Right. Crab dinner. Sam added it to the long list of things the women in his life were demanding of him. The list ranged from crustsceans (pinchy) to skull thieves (still at large), and Solenya had just added a bunch of introspection and soul-searching to it that Sam was not ready for.

"After this, I promise," he said, and stopped her by way of a gentle nudge to the chest. "This? Smell." The tree to her left looked like the rest of them, but Sam had absolutely no idea what he was doing.

They stopped, Sam directing her to the first tree of his choice. Visala was not quite sure what to look for, but she would give it her best shot. Taking a good whiff of the bark, she was quick to wrinkle her nose. It reeked of sour urine and fur. A fox was here some time ago. A day or so, maybe. She then pressed an ear to the trunk, but reeled back from that. It's infested with bugs. She could hear the creepy crawly sounds - the tree was probably dying.

If it's a 'heart' tree, is it in the heart of the forest? That would have made sense, maybe she should have though of it earlier.

Ghost's commentary had an instant calming effect on Sam. He nodded along with her observations, saying hmm and aha as though the details weren't going straight down a pipe to nowhere. It wasn't until she hypothesized that 'heart' might refer to the forest's core that his brain farted itself awake, serving up a memory of the cumbersome route to the snarled and ancient center of the Witchwood.

"Oh. Yes! That's definitely it. HA! I'm not sure how I forgot that," he turned the to the left, away from the buttery light at the edge of the forest. They walked in silence for a little while, Sam directing them along a path of his own making with the confidence of one born and raised in leaf litter.

They were deep in the forest and inspecting their fourteenth tree when Sam said, "I'm pretty stressed." Then, in a whisper. "There's something these guys can't know."

She was left glad that she spoke up; this would surely make the investigation much shorter.

It felt to Visala that they had been searching for hours when Sam finally spoke up again. Her ears suddenly swiveled to catch each word; unnecessary given her hearing was exceptional, but obviously she was eager. Do you.. want to tell me? She asked.

Visala was pretty used to others looking to confide in her, but it was still exciting when it happened for the first time

He did – and did. It all spilled out; Sobeille (whose make he did not know, and referred to as Masked Mistress), the quest, the cave and the bones and the gruesome exhibition he had built in the sand. The missing skull. His plan to return there in the morning to finally find and threaten the wolf that had stolen it.

"I have to do it," he finished, parking then next to a fat, lumpy tree with sagging branches. "Even though I'm pretty sure she has babies and I don't want to scare a mom, but..." He sighed, deep and low. "I need that skull."

She listened intently, checking trees as they went. When finally they parked, she remained silent for a moment while considering all he had told her.

But why do you have to do it? She asked, though the answer seemed pretty obvious. Sam, if it doesn't make you feel good you shouldn't help her. She sounds like a real piece of work anyways. Visala knew from experience that it wasn't worth throwing out your morals for someone else from being on the giving and recieving end of that exchange; it rarely ended well. She can get the skull on her own.

Pressing a paw to the tree next to them, she made an attempt at comfort. What do you think of this tree? Feeling it further, she almost make a remark that it reminded her of Sam - best save that for later.

But Sam would not hear it – he shook his head, imperceptibly at first, then enough for a little wind to tickle her whiskers. "I want to," he insisted. "I want to be.. " Important? The right word would not come, and when contorting his face did not produce anything new, Sam left the unfinished seam of words to unravel.

Fortunately, Ghost had put the awkward moment to good use. Sam's eyes widened at the sight of what was surely the sanctum's heart tree. "That’s it. That has to be it. So lumpy." He touched a paw to the rippling bark, then loosed a loud, lung-clearing HOOOO-ah sound. "OK. OK OK OK. Now you just bite a little bit of my ear off, we bury it, Huldra is happy, and we're safe." No biggie.

Visala spoke no further on his claim that he wanted to help the mystery woman, her twitching whiskers the only sign that she even registered his presence for the moment.

Listening to his instructions, she couldn't help but laugh after a moment. Sam there's no way I'm doing that. Not just because she had taken a liking to him, but because the practice frankly sounded nasty. I got the impression that witchy stuff wasn't your thing, so why do you believe in this Huldra anyways? She had to assume that it was just something he was raised with - breaking tradition was tough - but biting off bits of ear and scrambling around like this had to get old.

Ghost laughed, and Sam looked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Because witchy nonsense is... nonsense, and the Huldra is real," he told her, like it was the most obvious thing in the world – the grass was green, and the Huldra ate your skin if you did not appease it. 

"She needs something," he insisted, unwilling to listen to any further suggestion that the monster that had taken so many ears wasn’t real. "Some crabs, maybe.. I'd have to come back in a few days.." An ear really would be easier – they would be set for a full ride around the sun.

So he could believe that a monster was willing to eat them if they didn't give it a little piece of ear, but not the she was a living god? How rude. Then why has nobody I know ever spoken about it? She asked, raising a brow. It was a fair question, nobody she knew had ever done these rituals except Sam, and nobody had ever been mauled by the forest when they didn't. To Visala it seemed a lot more like Sam wanted women to tell him what to do, even when he had no proof they existed. How do you know I'm not the Huldra? Maybe I've spared you. She snickered, hoping her teasing would have him lighten up at least a little bit.

How about I stay here overnight. If I still have my skin in the morning, maybe you'll change your mind.

Sam rolled his eyes at Ghost's logic, and made sure she knew. "I'm rolling my eyes at you. They are like.. ALL the way up there. Nobody told me that there's a weirdo that listens or .. something, " What was it, again? She was.. an.. ear? "Stuff can be true even if you haven't heard about it. But not your stuff. Too weird," the youngster was quick to say, half joking. He gave her cheek a gentle nudge  and hoped it was a good enough stand-in for the crooked grin she couldn't see.

But the Huldra was serious business. The suggestion that she would stay and face the monster was "Absolutely not!" happening. "You stay, I stay," Sam huffed, even though he was a tiny bit tempted  by the offer.

Spooky sleepover thread?

Sticking her tongue out in response, Visala flopped to the ground and crossed her front legs. No weirder than a murderous forest lady. She spoke, returning his nudge with a light headbutt.

If you want to stay, then it's a date. I thought you would be too scared. Looking rather smugly in his.. general area, she rather clearly still didn't believe him in the least. It would be pretty funny to listen to him getting all jittery over some old folk tale, though.

absolutely, bring the blankets

He absolutely was too scared, and not bound by any sort of masculine compulsion to prove otherwise.

But he was also protective, and when push came to shove, he would sooner separate his own ear from his body through sheer force of will than leave Ghost to die.

Sam arranged himself into a tightly tucked loaf on the ground, scanning their surroundings with narrowed eyes.

They settled in to wait for night, and the Huldra.