She was guided on from that unsanctified place on legs still trembling, Twilight clutching her so tightly that it may as well have been the grasp of the beast that had threatened her. What part of her that was not still primal registered the gesture as both protective and fearful; Twilight was a wondrous aunt, but there were few things in this world she feared more than her brother’s wrath. Flurry would not be let out of her sight until she was back in sight of her father.

“There we are… raise your head, you see?” Twilight beckoned, her voice trying to carry a softened tone that the edge within would not allow. “There is my home. I’ll make us a cup of tea and have things all better, don’t you worry.”

Flurry gave a nod- wait, did she? Her body was shivering as though in the bite of winter, still imagining that forest border and all the ways it could have gone wrong. What if the fell being on the other side had decided to take her accidental theft as a true trespass? She could see its hulking, shadowed form creaking out from the shadows and lunging towards her; she could see it ripping apart Auntie before settling its jaws upon her flesh and seeing limb ripped away from body in a slow, bloodied display of might and hate…

“Inside. Now, take a seat.” Twilight’s home was not hospitable to her niece at the moment; filled to the brim with herbs and concoctions borne from earth and herb, the whole of her home stank of forest. Not at all a comforting scent, all things considered. But all the same did Twilight see Flurry settled on a misshapen old chair near the fireplace, at last releasing the younger girl from her grip so that she might see the kettle made ready. “Now… what sort of tea sounds nice? Chamomile with some honey, or ging-” Twilight paused and pulled a face. “... Chamomile will be fine.”

Flurry watched without seeing as her aunt put fresh water to boil just above the small fire that remained in the fireplace, seeing to the stoking and brimming of flames. Often she had watched her teacher bemoan such a means, decrying the use of an open flame as a poor means by which to boil tea water. Twilight claimed to have an invention that was far superior in brewing a better batch, but also condemned its slower pace in producing a useful batch; in such a case as this, the swifter, hotter fires would make do. Before much time had passed, the two women had a pair of steaming mugs before them, a small catch of flowers having gifted them a sweet, almost honeyed scent that was made to soothe the soul. The flowing scent of the flower filled the tightly packed kitchen that was overwhelmed with the scent of far too many herbs and poultices, enough greenery and tree limbs to make one feel like they really were still in the woods-

With a shaky hand, young Flurry reached out for her tea and tried to drink. The result was a hot excess of boiling water down her throat that offered no more comfort than her recent terror.

“Take a breath, Flurry,” Twilight counseled, the softness of her voice not quite matching the harrowed expression on her face. “I know, it was quite a scare; it was for me also. But let’s just take a moment. Breathe in your tea… drink deep of its scent. Then take a nice, slow sip.”

Flurry could still imagine the unknown specter on the other side of her village’s border, see how its misshapen hand would reach out from beyond the brush and drag her away to its lair. She could see how sharp claws would reach deep into her body and tear through sinew, how she would be eaten alive and allowed to scream until her heart stopped. Yet the here and now beckoned for her, so she brought the mug of steamy brew to her nostrils so that she could soak in its floral comfort. There it was, the strange smell that almost made her think of apples- and the honey she’d added to the mixture. Chamomile, the soothing flower; she remembered the first time having this as a young girl, helping her to sleep after a particularly awful nightmare. How it had made her think of the meadows just beyond the village center, and how she would go there to play with her friends. A scent of spring, of life and joy…

With a hand not so shaky any longer, Flurry was able to take a more controlled sip of her tea and not allow it to scald her throat. She let it soak in rather than burn, let her heartbeat slow… “Ah…” Though the memory was still terrifyingly fresh, the young girl found herself beginning to believe that what she had witnessed would not seek her out any longer. It was over.

Twilight looked over at her from across the table and gave a smile. “There. You see? Nothing so frightening that a little tea can’t fix,” she said warmly. “I almost wish I’d used my little tea candle. It’s quite a sight; I’ll have to show you how it works sometime.”

“… Thank you, Auntie,” Flurry muttered. “I’m sorry. For… messing everything up.”

Twilight looked upon her niece in confusion. “And what on earth did you do that requires an apology?” She asked. “It was hardly your fault. And I would not say it was the fault of whatever lay across on the other side; sometimes, things are simply an accident. You couldn’t have known the root would trail so far across the forest border, and it couldn’t have known that the bulb grew in our lands.”

Flurry nodded and returned to her tea, but now her mind was bent back towards panicking. It had been so close to a disaster, one of her own making. How had she managed to escape such a fate? “It was so close… I’ve never come so close before! If- if I looked up, I would have seen it in the gaps between the bushes and the trees-!” The young girl gave a shudder and took to her mug. “I’ve never… ever heard anything sound like that.”

“Never you mind about it,” Twilight said, shushing her youthful companion’s fears before they could begin to grow strong yet again. “You’ve no reason to be ashamed, nor fearful of reprisal. Did you not notice how it was willing to listen to me once I spoke to it? The beast could be reasoned with and it discerned that you truly were innocent. It was diplomacy, not a dispute.”

“But what if it had-” She dared not think of what would have transpired had the thing decided to breach the border. “I didn’t know they were really so close…” Her eyes, once settled on her aunt’s sober visage, turned away to look out through the window to where the forest lurked. Maybe she would be unlucky to catch sight of another one again and cap off this horrifying day. “It sounded so angry.”

“And then it listened to me, Flurry,” Twilight reminded her. “It heard my words and understood them. It knew not to hate you. You’ve no reason to fret any longer.” Her hand reached out from its place on the table to give Flurry’s a squeeze; rough and knotted from years of herbcrafting, enough to be uncomfortable upon youthful skin. “Breathe, and worry not. What you’ve done caused no harm, to anyone. It is alright.”

Was it? Flurry followed in her father’s instructions and tried to see her mind settled: she was in her Aunt Twilight’s kitchen, drinking tea. She was not in the forest, the forest dweller had not harmed her, and it seemingly had listened to her aunt’s words before taking the ginger root away into the forest for itself. Did she have reason to feel vulnerable or afraid truly? The answer seemed to be no. A bit more confident in her safety, Flurry took a headier sip.

“… Auntie?” Flurry asked.

“Mhm?”

“Have-” She hesitated, worrying the query might resurrect her terror. “Have you ever… seen one? One of them?”

Twilight didn’t immediately answer, actually seeming to take time and digest the thought. “I’m not sure,” she eventually revealed. “I might have, one day. A long time ago, actually when I was right about your age.” She paused at that remark to scrutinize her own words for a moment, as though something new had revealed itself in that information. “I wonder if there’s a reason for that… they seemed more aggressive when I was about your age, too. Like they were more willing to move along the woodline, make themselves known.”

“Why would they do that? That doesn’t make any sense, we don’t ever dare to go in there. Save for-” She bit her lip before her grandfather’s name could spill from it. Heaven above knew how badly she wanted to.

Twilight wondered at the query and again took her time before speaking. So much guesswork about something she’d never truly encountered, their one meeting that ever bound their worlds together a complete mystery; the village would leave an offering every sunrise of the New Moon, and they would leave behind an offering every moonrise. What could she possibly go on? “They… might be on the same birth cycle as us,” she offered hesitantly. “I don’t think they’re immortal or anything, so perhaps their young are just as curious about our village as I was of their forest. Youthful bravery seeing the lines blur just a little bit.”

“Auntie, what did-” her tongue so dearly wished to inquire as to the fate of her grandparents, but still she could not bring herself to let it be said. Instead, she opted for asking, “What did you see?”

“A pair of eyes. I think. Only a reflection as my torch flickered about,” Twilight answered. “I’d decided to be especially- well, stupid. I followed to where your grandfather had entered the woods, thinking that maybe I would find some last trinket of him. Remains that they had left behind. And as I was looking about to search the borders, the torch in my hand offered a reflection on something. A flash of color, and then nothing.” The brilliant woman gave a shudder and a laugh. “I had never known that one could be so frightened that you couldn’t utter a sound. I dropped my torch, ran back to your father’s house, and didn’t dare sleep.”

It was chilling, yet the story fascinated her. To come so close, to actually be sure you’d seen physical form of the denizens that surrounded their world. Flurry knew it would have chilled her bones to no end to witness such an encounter, just as today had, but she couldn’t help but wonder as to what just might…

“Did you ever see one again?” Flurry asked.

Twilight shook her head. “Not seen, not heard, not anything,” she answered. “Not until today.” For a time, the two women carried on sipping at their steaming tea and letting the vicious chill of their brief meeting with their woodland enemies fade away in the heat. It was just outside, not so terribly far away, but here they were safe. Four walls, a comforting fire, and warm brew to sate the spirit within. It was enough to make the worst of the memory lose its bite.

After Flurry had finished her own mug of chamomile, Twilight stood to her feet and took a quick stretch. “I will see you home. I want to speak with your father about this, he will need to know there was an incident.”

Flurry nodded even though she felt a sinking pit in her stomach. It was her fault the whole thing had transpired in the first place, and now that information was going to have to be handed over to the one who would be the most concerned –and most furious- about the matter. How many of the village boys had he punished throughout the years for daring to tempt the forest’s guardians? A public display, a reminder of far more dire consequences-

“He will not punish you. What happened wasn’t your fault; there was no way you could have known that the root grew so far into the woods,” Twilight said, perhaps noticing her niece’s new disquiet. “We allowed a concession to help ease what it saw as a transgression. That should be enough to sate them. But your father should know it happened in the first place.”

The exit from the sanctuary that was Twilight’s home only could offer discomfort; the moment Flurry walked out from beneath its shelter and walls, all she could see were the woods that surrounded her village home. What terror that had been laid to rest in her heart was resurrected the moment her eyes fell upon the bark and greenery, the borderlands that spoke to the world beyond. Surely they did not still look upon her now, right? Why would they be so eager to deal death to her form after such an infraction? But what she saw out there were the shifting, moving shapes of many things beneath the trees, eyes upon her fragile flesh and eager to draw blood; try as she might to rationalize her thoughts, all she could do was shiver beneath the sun- and be glad that Twilight was there beside her as she walked.

“Don’t think about it,” Twilight murmured softly, a hand on Flurry’s shoulder and again predicting the musings of her young niece. “You’ve no reason to worry, you’re out in the middle of the open and did nothing wrong. Why should you feel anything but safe?”

It was a rational response, one that didn’t amount to much until the two of them were safely at the threshold of familiar dwellings; never before had her home ever looked so appealing, so safe. Flurry saw the chickens that gave her eggs, the walls that gave her shelter, and –most importantly- heard the voices that she knew meant the two best people she could know. If her father and mother were nearby, then what on earth could hope to harm here? It was more than enough to soothe her pounding heart.

“… Yes, I understand Mr. Matherson is worried about his sheep, but I hardly know what he expects me to do about their grazing space,” Shining said, his words echoing from around the house and to meet his daughter’s ears. “It’s always been up to him to do best with the herds, especially with what we have. I cannot offer him more land than what the village provides, and I certainly will not take an axe to the border.”

Flurry felt a smile come to her face when she saw her father speaking with Mr. Matherson’s son, a man about twenty years her senior and unpleasant as bile. Yet again she found her father to be the reasonable diplomat when it came to words, unfazed by a peer’s daunting profile and still willing to hold his ground. “Yes, he needs to keep the herd in check. I completely understand; but so does every other herder and shepherd in the village, yet he is the only one who ever complains that he has not enough room for his herd to graze. What makes his sheep so special that they require more than everyone else?”

“Brother, a word,” Twilight called, interrupting the conversation like her niece dared not, a hand waved in greeting though her visage remained grim. “As soon as you can, please.”

“Twilight- and Flurry! You two are back earlier than expected, I didn’t think I would see you until sunset,” Shining said, his tone friendly though his eyes held confusion. “Cadance is out with the hens gathering eggs, but we have the evening meal being made ready also, would you stay for a spell and-”

“We need to talk,” Twilight said politely though quite firmly, her eyes hard as stone and fixated on her brother. “Now.”

The warmth that Flurry always knew to reside in her home evaporated in an instance, a place of soft color turning cold. Shining knew his sister to not be one who would overreact like the young girl she once was or behave childishly. If she spoke plainly, there was grim reason behind it. “Master Matheson, if you would be so kind to excuse yourself,” he said cordially, though his gaze was a frosty thing when it settled upon his daughter.

Despite believing full well it was her fault, Flurry couldn’t help but feel a little indignant. He really was that keen on blaming her for something having gone afoul?

When Mstr. Matheson had properly departed and the door was closed behind him, Shining’s pleasant façade dissipated in an instant, pleasant features turned dreadfully grim. “What has been done?” He asked of his sister, though his gaze still turned to settle upon his daughter.

Twilight knew her brother well, only Cadance being her superior in the subject. “Shining, she’s innocent in this. Nothing that transpired is because of Flurry’s doing,” she insisted. “Something happened to her- and before you try to worry, she is fine.”

The man gave a deepened sigh, relief etched into his features as the breath escaped his lungs. “Then, it would seem, I owe my daughter an apology for the assumption,” he said, turning to Flurry and giving her a small smile. “Forgive your old father, my dearest,” he said. “I am too quick to assume you are apt to be as foolish as I once was… are you well? Unharmed?”

She couldn’t keep the pricklings of anger quite fully away, but it was more than her fire-fueled mind had anticipated. “I’m- fine, Father,” she said. “Just a bit shaken up. We encountered-” The memory came back, and with it all the terror and weight that the moment itself had borne. In the safety that her father provided, she felt more akin to a small girl than her teenage self felt proud to admit, prickings of what were likely tears on the edge of her eyes. Just the smallest amount of brush and thicket had separated her from a disaster…

Arms came about her in the strongest, gentlest embrace she knew, clouded vision becoming further obscured as the strong figure of her father came about her. “You’re safe, right here,” he shushed, coming to her aid before the worst could envelop her mind. “Don’t let the memory frighten you any longer.”

She breathed in his scent, the familiar tang of sweat, wood, and ink that she knew to be his alone. What emotions that raced through her were strong, but far stronger was the great strength of her father; Flurry allowed herself to exhale and be at peace. “… I’m sorry, Father,” she said weakly. “I promise it was an accident.”

“And I’ve no doubt,” Shining assured her. “Your mother is outside with the chickens, would you go fetch her? She’ll need to hear what your Auntie has to say.”

The orders were good medicine to her nerves and she hastened to obey, fetching her mother from outside so that she might come hither to heed Twilight’s news. Though she wasn’t invited into the counsel, Flurry did what all young folk do when their parents were speaking secretly and eavesdropped at the door. Frayed though her nerves were, whatever they were speaking about was worth listening to.

“… Surely it was just a random incident, correct?” Flurry heard her mother say, a more fretful tone to her voice than she’d expected. Since when was she this nervous about them? “The most outlandish of chances saw them at the same part of the border at the same time. You both don’t think it was intentional.”

“If it were an isolated incident then I would believe it,” Shining said. The sound of his voice made young Flurry shudder; he was scraggly and aged, weighed down by burdens that he alone could carry. “But this is… this is the third encounter this season, and the weather has only just begun to turn. That makes for over a dozen incidents that have transpired along the border this year. Nothing openly hostile yet, but still aggressive.”

“Over a dozen-?” Cadance gasped. “But why- I was never told of this!” The fear in her words was something tangible, enough to make Flurry’s heart quake. For all her life, she’d known those on the other side of the woods as something only to be imagined of, very rarely heard but never once seen. But maybe that was not so truthful a statement…

“They must be watching us. Watching our movements when we come close to the forest,” Twilight insisted. Her words were harried, swift in speech as she always was when under stress. “We were close to the forest’s edge just at the particular moment one of them happened to be passing by? I don’t believe it is coincidence that they happened upon the same stretch of the border just at the moment we were present.”

“Then why? Why track our movements so carefully? I don’t remember hearing about such stories when I was her age. Why are they now so keen on making themselves known?” Cadance inquired. “Even when I thought I heard them as a little girl, I couldn’t say it for certain. Are they hunting us?”

“They behave like guards about a house. Ensuring nothing leaves nor enters,” Shining muttered. “They must watch us all the time and we never even know.”

“But- the forest must be massive. Colossal, with so much territory for them to cover. Why would they focus all their attentions on this one village that they so clearly surround?”

“It has been too long since we came here for us to know what the outside world is like any longer,” Twilight reminded her. Were even our grandparents the first to settle here? Not even close. Night Light spoke of the village as though he’d been brought here when he was extremely young, but the whole of his childhood was here as far as records say. We don’t really know of what else lies beyond the woods. For all we know, this is the whole world and we’re right in the epicenter.”

“And so they focus on us…” Cadance mused. For a time, silence. Then, “Why fixate on us so? The treaty between us and- and them is known to everyone, but do we know why they despise us? What did we ever do?”

“Impossible to know. As far as the village’s records state, no one is aware anymore,” Twilight answered-

“Not quite,” Shining growled, most unwillingly so. “But it is still not enough.”

“And what does- you have records I’m not aware of?” Twilight asked, her tone sharp. “What have you been hiding from me?”

“Snippets. Not enough to explain anything in detail. Only that supposedly we did something to offend them in some way,” Shining said. “Only trinkets that father had, and that he passed down to me before he left.”

“And you’ve never mention it before now?”

“Did it matter before now? It changes nothing about our life, nor does it change the treaty.” There was the creak of wood as chair and floor were put to a strain. “… And it still doesn’t explain the rise in aggression from them, either.”

“Yes, well…” Twilight was clearly sulking, eager for a new tidbit of information that was left dangling out of her reach. “What do you suggest we do? If they’ve become more aggressive, do we retaliate in any way? Or do we try to placate them?”

“Add excess to the Full Moon offering,” Shining offered. “Better herbs, quality meat… it is only a guess at best that I can offer.”

“Your guesses have been good before,” Cadance remarked.

“But not enough to stop an increase of encounters on the border,” Shining reminded his bride, and the next sound he gave was a tired groan. “Let us go back to Flurry. The poor girl has enough nightmares about the woods. I’d hate to see this memory become a recurring thing.”

And so Flurry tried to race back to the kitchen where she had been left in the utmost silence before her kin would find her. Her mind was buzzing, heart pounding, and she knew not a single thing she could do that would remedy any of it. So much that she had not been meant to hear, yet now all of it made her mind swim; she would have plenty to ponder before the day was over.

They were so close; maybe they were still watching her now.

She felt a tension next to her in the form of her mother’s body. Was it fear, protective desire, or something else that kept Cadance uneasy? Considering what she’d overheard, there were plenty of options to choose from. Flurry knew better than to make such a query now, however. Not at such a moment as this, when the woods were so close.

The Full Moon offering was one of the rare instances where all souls within the village were present to bear witness. A tradition older than all present and hardly younger than the village itself, where a hearty gift was given to those who roam the woods so as to maintain the laws of whatever treaty had been drawn up those long days before. Some years saw leaner offerings than others- and vice versa, the New Moon offerings bringing little to the border for them to wield. But this year, with a hearty spring and many new livestock born, this one was to be a generous boon… especially with knowledge of tensions within her father’s mind.

The village host stood surrounding the ceremonial border marker: an aged stump decorated with wild flowers and wooden carvings, a binding of where the unknown throng and man meshed together for a miniscule moment, a grove where the forest crept forward to claim village life but was kept at bay by an open skies that saw no trees to provide shelter; a merging of worlds that was a focal point for them to trade. Small, momentary, but a portal nonetheless. Through the throng came her father, in his most formal attire and followed by a litter of goods: two fattened calves, freshly killed and surrounded by the finest herbs of the field. It would make for a tasty meal, and the medicinal poultices from Twilight’s apothecary would be good for illness and injury if the forest dwellers knew what to do with it. The meat itself still seemed to pulse with the heat of warm blood and life, the herbs remained green and fresh. This full moon was offering a hearty bounty.

“It’s not right, this is,” murmured someone behind her, and the sound was surprising enough that Flurry dared to glance about and find the source. “Those were Elrod’s best flock from the spring, why do they get to have them?”

Never in her –well, relatively few- years had Flurry ever heard someone openly expressing dissent about the offering, especially during the ceremony itself. Was this a recent sentiment? Surely it couldn’t be, even if the complaint was novel to her. The idea that someone was discontent with her father’s choices was shocking, and enough to make her head burn with anger.

“They always get the best picks. The same with what’s given from Twilight’s stock of herbs,” someone quickly whispered back, an aged woman who was taking the ceremony with greater reverence than even Flurry was. Her fiery eyes were fixed on a younger man near the edge of the crowd that brimmed with displeasure; Flurry recognized him as Mstr. Wendel, the blacksmith’s son. “Now shush, you! Not your time to be talking and you know it.”

Wendel looked eager to carry on, but bore the scrutiny of his elder for only a bit before he merely glowered and turned his head.

As the offering was put upon the bare stump, Flurry watched her father come kneel before it, his hands upon the offered calves with his head bowed. “Kindred denizens of the forest, hear our voice as we call to you in peace,” he said, the boom of his voice echoing across the open village so that every living soul might hear. “I kneel before your great kingdom in honor of you. You have our respect as both mighty and peaceful.”

Flurry had heard these words many times over the course of her life. Every offering was filled with them, a time-honored tradition that had been transpiring for heaven knew how long. Her father likely had said this speech so many times he knew the words by heart and could mutter them in his sleep.

“Behold our finest. Let them be yours to enjoy and make use of,” he called out. “May they bring you and your offspring life and health. May they let you grow strong and well. May your ways of life be preserved from all harm. And may you offer us the same, so that the peace we dwell within may never come to an end. Be strong, and be free from all fear and harm.”

The offering was left there at the stump, the people backing away just as Shining did the same. The people would not take their eyes off the offering until they had exited the grove and left that flicker of woods behind, whether it be by fear of what might be waiting for them just out of sight or a sign of respect. Flurry wanted to come forward and stand beside her father, but the hand that rested upon her shoulder was especially strong this time around. Cadance had been far too protective these past few days than what a teenage girl was willing to put up with.

“Mother, please, I’m fine without your help,” she finally said, no longer deigning to be guided through the village crowd at her mother’s will. “Mother- Mother, please!”

“Flurry, you’re making a scene…”

“Mother, I can walk without your help,” the young girl said, coming to a halt within the throng and glaring at Cadance’s anxious gaze. “I don’t need you to help me! I want to go back and walk with Papa.”

“And you’re sure you’ll be alright?” Cadance was in one of her worrying fits for some reason, having become more fretful and anxious than she’d been since before the day of the border incident.

“Yes! Of course I will, I’ll be with Papa,” she said, nearly stamping her foot so great was her frustration. “Now please, let me go, will you? Your hand is still on my arm.”

Indeed it was, and Cadance seemed not aware of the fact until her child had pointed out such a thing. “Y- yes, you’re right,” she murmured, retracting her grasp and seeming a little shamefaced about her actions. “… Yes, go with your father. He probably would like to see you, after all. Just make sure to see you both home quickly, alright? I have stew in the pot for us. With beef this time.”

Another tradition known to days of the full moon: a stew made with choice meat, oftentimes crafted with the same meat that was offered to the denizens of the woods. Rarely was it beef, considered too great a luxury for the village to suffer losing; but then again, her father hadn’t hesitated this time to sacrifice two fattened calves for this passage. The anticipation made Flurry’s stomach gurgle. “I’ll bring him, then, Mother,” she said, and off like a shot through the crowd did she fly.

Her father was, as always, last to leave the grove behind, she moving through the many souls that left the fearful place behind until she caught up to him. Her inclination had been to greet him jovially, but the happy mood fled from her when she took in his appearance: haggard and slow, weighed down by burdens. Goodness, what had transpired to make her boundless father so weary? “Papa?” She called. “Papa, are you alright?”

“Flurr- yes, I’m alright.” Shining’s sorrowed form regained its strength when he realized what eyes looked upon him, he straightening his back and offering a smile that couldn’t quite hide his exhaustion. “Don’t fret, little love. Your father just has things to think about.”

She knew full well, and the embrace she gave him was meant to help soothe such thinking. Flurry had often been mocked by her peers for her doting love upon her aging father, but not once had their teasing or bullying ever made such behavior waver. He was the best, greatest man she’d ever met in all her life- and heaven help what boy tried to compete for her heart; he’d have to be just as good a man as Shining was! When Flurry hugged her father, it was with all her strength. Never would she hesitate to ensure he knew how much she cherished him.

Shining gave a gentle laugh at the strength with which she held him. “And what has my feisty girl in such a mood today?” He wondered jovially. “Surely my brave daughter wasn’t frightened.”

“Not a chance, Papa,” she said warmly, looking up at her hero with shining eyes. “Just…” It was better she never admitted that she’d eavesdropped. “… I’m just sorry I scared you the other day.”

“You are completely forgiven, little love,” Shining said in return. “I apologize for fretting that you’d done something foolish. I can always rely on my little girl to do the right thing, can’t I?”

Flurry smiled, but it was only half-hearted. She knew better than anyone just how many times she’d let him down, all the moments she’d been a detriment. But still her father loved to build her up. “Thanks, Papa,” she said, burying her face into his chest. “Mother wanted me to say she has stew on the pot for us.”

“Ah, so she has some of Mr. Elrod’s beef cooking,” he said, a new warmth in his eyes at the prospect of a good meal. “Well, we can’t keep your mother waiting, can we? Let’s go.” And with that, he put his hand about hers and led them both on back to the cottage they knew to be their sanctuary. “Just so you know… your father cooks beef better than your mother does.”

Flurry laughed, the very thought impossible to believe. “Father, you couldn’t brew tea even if your life depended on it!” She said. “How could you cook beef fit for a meal?”

“Oh, you’ve just rarely seen your father do such a thing,” Shining replied, almost seeming hurt by her disbelief. “Your mother is a wonder in the hearth, but your father prefers an open flame. If only it were summertime and I could show you!”

“You’d show me how you could feed us bits of blackened meat, burnt to a crisp, Papa,” Flurry teased.

“The cheek of you! Why you- you…” Shining only gave another laugh. “You are my daughter after all,” he said, and he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “I’ve spoiled you so, haven’t I?”

The young woman at his side only beamed and soaked in his affections, glad to have a moment with the man she adored so thoroughly. He was the paragon of people, so far as she was concerned; always good and brave, gentle and fierce, always able to make the right choice. Even if he was sometimes keen to see her at fault, he never once did so out of dislike or swift judgment. No one, not even her mother, was so ready to look upon her with stars in their eyes.

As Flurry walked along, she didn’t notice the sound at first. A rustling. Just on the edge of her hearing, away from her comfortable world and on to elsewhere. But then came a snap of twigs and it was enough to rouse the lovely girl from her happy reverie and back into the wide world of her encircled home. What was making that noise..?

Flurry slowed in her stride beside her father and turned to look at the woods. Where else could it come from but there? She paused and waited… yes, there it was! More movement, the sound of leaves moving about and branches snapping! Something was shuffling about on the other side of the border- again, right near her!

She wanted to cry out, but couldn’t. Her nightmare was happening all over again, a new encounter beginning right before her eyes. Her legs trembled and she felt her heart quake, mouth turn dry and taste like ash; no, this couldn’t be happening again. How could it be so? She didn’t want to see what was on the other side, not hear its sounds and movements like she was in a feverish dream-

The bushes that lined the border were rustling! It was right there, pushing against blade and tree and bush to push through! This was to be a breach, a true trespass into her world and she was going to be the first victim-!

The tall, strewn leaves that held fast the line between their world and hers crashed, rippling like water amidst a storm. Out from the green and grey that encircled the village came a young man, fresh-faced and looking about at the village in utter confusion.

Author's Note

If there is any sign that I clearly lost my way, it was the gap between the last chapter and this. I've been a mess.
I might not be anything before too long.

Enjoy, I guess. Sorry it took so long.