OOC: Open! PM to join. :)
The Witch was dead. The earth had consumed her. And, in the place where her her broken body had been swallowed up, the earth remembered her. At least for a little while. Tiny flowers, white and purple and pale blue peeked up from the forest floor to mark this spot. To remember her.
Hepaticas, for this had been her name, though they were more commonly known as liverleaf. But Salka would never know this. He would never know the name of the Witch who had cursed him and then died. He would only remember her as he'd seen her with his Beast's eyes and the small forest flowers, so frail and delicate, that he saw with the eyes of a man.
Salka knew neither the word or the meaning for 'hate,' but if he had and if he had become capable of such an emotion, he might say that he hated the Witch. He had let her dwell in his forest – briefly, so briefly it had seemed to him – and she had betrayed him. She had trapped him in a form foreign and strange and he took no joy in it. But still he mourned her, consumed first by her own vanity and magic, and then consumed, like all living things, by the ground. The Witch had been his only hope.
As Salka crouched there at the base of the ancient broad oak tree and contemplated the flowers, the Hepaticas, creatures of the forest began to draw around him, curious at this strange intruder in their midst. This was deep in the forest, and men rarely treaded here. There was something familiar about him, but still they kept their distance, untrusting. It was a fox whose curiosity finally overcame his caution and who ventured forward.
-Who are you?- asked the fox in his foxish way, with the cant of his head and the reserve in his eyes. -For you feel familiar to me, and yet I do not know you.-
-I am Salka,- Salka told him in the tongue of beats and birds.
-No, you cannot be,- the fox made his reply. -For the Salka is the great Beast of the Forest and you are no beast. Since you are no beast, you are not the Salka. Something that is not a beast cannot be The Beast.-
-I am Salka,- was all Salka could say in response.
Now a boar drew forward, following the boldness of the fox. -No, you cannot be,- the boar said in agreement with the fox, in his boarish way, with the stamp of his cloven foot and the dip of his tusk. -The Salka is bigger than a stag and stronger than a bear and covered in fur and scales and eagle feather. You are small and weak and you are soft and bare and naked.-
-Yes, you are not Salka,- agreed a chorus from the trees: birds and squirrels; and from the shadow of the trees: the badger and the weasel and the doe, -you are not a beast.-
-Yet you are not wholly a man, though you look like one,- said the fox, taking one step closer to this strange naked creature in their midst.
-No, it is not a man,- chimed the chorus, -but not a beast.-
-I am Salka.-
The animals all stared at him. They were, each and every one of them, large and bright and beautiful, stronger and more intelligent than others of their kind. For Salka had made them so. Just as he had made the trees broader, the moss greener, and the forest deeper. But they looked at him now with suspicion in their black eyes, not knowing what he was or what to make of him.
-He must be some kind of man, if not a typical one,- the boar said to the fox, in his boarish way. -He must leave. And if he does not, we will drive him out. Me with my tusks and you with your teeth. And the others with their antlers and sharp beaks and talons and nails.-
-Yes,- agreed the fox, -this is a forest of beasts and birds and trees, not a forest for men. But he is strange. Let us leave him for now and return after the moon has risen and set. Then if he is still in the forest, we will drive him out.-
-Yes,- said the birds, -with our beaks and our talons. We will drive him out.-
-Yes,- agreed the stoats and the weasels and badgers, -with our sharp claws and biting teeth.-
-Yes,- came the deer and the elk and the moose, -with our hooves and our antlers.-
-Yes, yes,- echoed the chorus of the forest, -we will drive him out. If he does not leave before the rising and setting of the moon. We will drive him out.-
Then one by one the animals left Salka where they found him, crouched by the base of the old oak tree, the tree that he had made grow taller and broader than any other oak. One by one, and last of all the fox, who looked back at Salka with his golden eyes.
-You cannot be Salka,- the fox said wit his backwards glance, -and though you are familiar to me, you cannot stay in the forest of beasts.-
((OOC: Just to avoid any boo-ums for not including photo credits for the liverleaf, photo credit: me!))
