Yorric had been gone for weeks.
The baying of the wolves became incessant.
Night after night, Bryony left her smial in secrecy, donning a pair of old slacks and one of her da's shirts. Axe in hand, she scouted the entirety of the border between the Shire and Buckland. Every night, countless wolves fell beneath her axe, and every single night, she found more waiting.
Tonight was different. She would meet with the Company of the East Road, who had offered their help to the bounders.
As she leaned against a fence, a few familiar faces started popping up. Her dear friend Tivlyn had quickly approached her, putting a hand on her shoulder. Tivlyn was just as worried as she was, though they both refused to show. There was the beorning Randutha, who she had seen a few times, and the almighty Cloutster, who she still had no idea who he was, but assumed he was someone of quite some importance.
Unfamiliar faces also showed up, all for the same call.
The baying started almost instantly. The High Hay shuddered against a sudden onslaught. Wolves, desperately clawing their way through. Bryony found herself standing with the company as they broke through the door, their numbers vast. It seemed that for every wolf they killed, three more took their place.
They fought with all their might, and managed to barricade the door once more, though that did not seem to stop them.
The baying soon turned into whimpers. Something terrified them. The land seemed to quiver and shake beneath them as the whimpers turned to screeches of pain. All they could hear were bodies snapping and breaking on the other side, before everything seemed to go quiet.
Bryony had paused at the door. All she could see through the crack was a carpet of corpses. They opened the door, a mess of gore and bones meeting them. But Bryony wasn't paying attention to them. She heard it once more, a soft voice coming from deeper within the forest. She swore to never enter this forest again, but this voice seemed different, softer, friendlier.
She led the group deeper into the forest, following the soft humming voice. She couldn't completely understand what it was saying, but she continued to move on, until they happened upon an old gnarled tree. Its trunk was stained with blood, wolf corpses hung and stuck in its branches. As the group stopped behind her, she put a hand against the trunk, where the voice suddenly ceased.
Speaking in a low voice, she murmured, "We mean no harm. Rest easy, the danger is gone." The tree creaked and groaned, which was followed by more twisting their roots as if they were about to stand up and devour them. But the tree simply murmured, "We will rest when we deem the danger is gone, which it seems to be. We can see you are not our foe. Be granted safe passage back, while we go back to our slumber."
The groaning and quaking resumed, but then the earth seemed to sigh around them as the trees swayed and rested. The company was glad to be able to get out of the forest, but Bryony told them to go on without her.
Finding herself alone, she sat underneath the now resting tree, her back against it. She felt the roots beneath her twist and turn, almost as if they were accommodating her. A small root stretched out from beneath her, resting against her foot.
In the quiet of it all, she finally understood. The Old Forest was angry, as was she. It felt betrayed, on edge, with a need to constantly defend itself. The voice from months ago had led her into the forest out of malice and hatred. But she would have done the same.
That anger - she now knew what it felt like. When Yorric had left, she had a constant fear gnawing at her. After a week, that fear turned to worry. After two, the worry turned to rage. After all they had been through, he just left her, with a simple note stating he'll be back soon. He hadn't woken her up, he left like a thief in the night. She now realised that she harboured a hatred towards him, for treating her the way he had, for just leaving.
She threw her anger out at the wolves. Every single worry, she hacked away a wolf's head. But nothing was taking away that anger, simply fueling it.
She was just like the Old Forest. Others saw it as spiteful, angry, and malicious. Bryony finally understood that it was not so, the forest had been beaten down so many times, that it finally decided to pay back those who had wronged it.
Anger and spite still raged within her, but in that moment, all she felt was peace. There was a sense of understanding between her and the trees that slumbered around her. They too understood the feeling of anger and spite all too well. But for now, feeling safe, they rested.
And Bryony rested alongside them.
