Cerulean Whispers

MARIGOLD

The whispers have always been there. A constant reminder that I was never alone—that I will... never be alone.

True, the whispers may not always be trustworthy; they prey upon emotion. But they are consistently present, unlike certain individuals I know. First, they show up out of the blue, pretending as if they hadn't been gone for months. Then they reassure me they are here to stay—which, by the way, is only long enough to fill their trunks with food and necessities.

And then? Surprise, surprise. They disappear once again.

But the whispers remain through it all.

They have been here for three days, which means they are due to leave by tomorrow. They will take most of the food I have preserved for the coming winter, including my last hunt. Thankfully, their predictability has remained annoyingly consistent; I've gotten into the habit of hiding some of my supplies at Alyssa's.

Game has been scarce this year, which is why I'm on the outer edge of the woods in search of a miracle. They always do this to me, but I've grown used to it. Being on my own might've bothered me in the beginning, but now? Now it is all that I know.

Crouching down behind an old willow tree atop a hill, I get into position as silently as possible. I remove my scarf and place it next to me on the ground.

"Spring has come and gone, yet she remains. Winter is coming and I wonder if she'll stay the same."

I shouldn't have removed my scarf, but the whispers put me at ease. The scarf is a barrier, muting the world and keeping the voices out of my mind. While most hunters keep theirs on, I choose to remove mine. Not only for the company, but how can one rely on instinct if you have removed a sensory asset? Especially during a hunt.

Yes, the sounds might not be trustworthy, but that is where trust comes in. To trust without a single doubt, no matter what you hear. A valuable asset indeed. I like to challenge myself.

A crunching sound drew my attention. I snapped my head to the left.

"Take a breath and trust your instincts," my uncle used to say. "A trickster is what it is. Don't trust your ears or your sight, as they will lead you astray. Focus on your breathing and the feel of the ground beneath you. Trust in what you feel. Trust in yourself."

"Poor little Mari, out here on her own, stray too far from the edge and she'll never find her way home."

Statements like that always made me wonder if there was some truth to them. I shook my head to clear the thought, took a deep breath, and focused on the sound. That was not an illusion. It was there.

Scanning the ground with minimal movement, a drifting leaf caught my eye. There was no wind today—not even a breeze—and yet that leaf moved. Something was there.

I pulled my bow from my shoulder and reached back for an arrow. I positioned it just like my uncle taught me.

"Be patient, slow down your breathing, and focus. That's it," his soothing words echoed through my mind.

"Red, Yellow and Gold, a promise in colors, Oh so bold."

It was a risk to go this far into the woods, but I had to try. Winter is a fortnight away and the days are already turning cold. Woodland creatures have gone into hiding; once winter takes over, finding game will be a near-impossible task.

It has to be now.

I've heard the stories of people losing their minds, swallowed by the woods this close to the edge. But those are just stories. Or at least, that's what I hope.

Crunch. The sound tickled my eardrums.

Crunch. Anticipation took hold.

Crunch, crunch. My heart beat wildly.

Crunch, crunch, crunch. The largest elk I have ever seen stepped into view. My breath whooshed from my lungs as I stared, wide-eyed. It was a magnificent creature: a muscular body, hair like spun gold, and white horns nearly as large as the animal itself, glistening in the sunlight.

It must be my lucky day. I just hoped that luck would hold as I released the string.

"Deep breath, Mari. Keep your eye on the target." My muscles relaxed. Aiming was second nature; I had done this countless times and I never missed.

"On the count of three. One." The world surrounding the elk disappeared.

"Two." My eyes zeroed in between its eyes.

"Three." The arrow took flight. I've never missed a target in my life, and if it were not for the ground opening up beneath the elk, my aim would've been true.

The arrow flew straight over the beast's head as I watched the earth swallow it whole. I was so close.

"Run," the woods whispered. "Run, Run."

The whispers grew louder. The forest had never been this direct. It usually spoke in riddles or insults, but never like this.

I listened.

Before I knew it, I was back on my feet, dodging trees and branches, leaping over boulders and trenches. I did not stop. I didn't dare look behind me, too terrified of what I might find. I ran like I never had before, but my escape was futile.

When I finally gave in to my shaking legs and collapsed, I was standing right where I started.