30th of Saun 722
From the wardrobe, to the sock drawer where Woe expected to find his shoes, Woe walked barefoot, over the scurrying rats and spiders. Crow watched from the window as ever, obscured slightly by mist. The dirty window provided plenty of light, even though it was
dirty
from a multitude of dust.
Woe made it to the sock drawer, where his belts, shoes, and other such things usually were stored. He tried to open it, but the wood jammed, warped as it was. Woe furrowed his brow, trying to twist and turn the compartment this way and that.Oh but this was pointless, trying to physically
wrench
the drawer out of its moorings. Woe stood back, and frowned pulling a key
that happened to be in the pocket of the coat he'd gathered from the wardrobe. The key, he thrust into the lock of the drawer, and with that incorporated into the drawer, he willed it to change its nature, now connected as it was to the axis of his own soul. Yet, as he made the slightest change, the drawer disobeyed, taking on forms far different than he had meant to. Shards of wood like teeth ringed the edges of the drawer, giving it a savage maw, which it then turned on him, sliding toward him, or was he sliding toward it?Then he was swallowed whole by the toothed drawer, and into his sock drawer he fell.
He tumbled end over end, until he hit the dirty path that splayed out before him. He could hear Crow's cries, raucous and angry as he came to his senses within the wooded path. His hands searched the ground, as he grew accustomed to the foggy atmosphere, his eyes adjusting to the poor visibility. In the gloom, he could perceive... well not much at all. He felt around on the ground, and his fingers grazed something silky, stemmed, and wet at the tip of the stem. It was a feather, that had been pulled violently, as if from a living bird. Woe thought of Crow.
"Crow, what's wrong? Where are you?" He took the
bloodied feather
and stuffed it into his pocket as he walked barefoot along the dirty path. There, set upon the path, he wenet forward, following the sounds of Crow's racket, as she cried for horror at some hidden menace
. Woe feared what it might be, but now that he was in the sock drawer, presumably, he'd still have to find something for his feet. Even so, he continued to step on disembodied feathers with his feet, feeling their silky texture against his toes as he found them. He'd reach down and gather them up like so many breadcrumbs
.Try as he might, he could not shake his guise as a young child during these dreams. The harder he tried to change his own shape and nature in the dream, the more elusive control became. So he was stuck, as a young ten-year old boy. Lost in the woods, following the braying of Crow, and fearing Mother's punishment if she found him out of doors.
He pursued Crow's braying into the spindly forest, shrouded in mist and laden with rocks on the path. He followed the sound of the braying to its source, closer to it anyway. Eventually, he reached a clearing that was totally shrouded in
mist
. There, he found the skeletal remains of a child, about his size, still wearing tattered clothing, but its boots were very fresh and fit to wear. Woe frowned at the skeleton, and saw that Crow was situated by its skull. Crow pecked at the thing's eyesocket, as if daring Woe to try and disturb its remains.Well, Woe was barefoot, and needed shoes! The boots would do, supposing they'd fit. He removed them from the skeleton, and almost jumped when he realized that a small family of rodents had moved into the boots. They scattered, the
mother rat, and her five pups
. Two of the pups were dead
while three were still living. The mother's eyes seemed to meet Woe's as he looked on them, as if pleading for him to take her pups. There was no defensiveness on her part, but she stood on her hind legs, pushing her pups away from her teats when they tried to feed. There was something wrong with the mother, obviously. Woe felt pity for the small pups, almost, but took them up and placed them in his pocket, warm for the moment. Then he slipped on the boots after making sure there were no more surprises waiting inside of them.They were a perfect fit!
Crow brayed and brayed at that, her voice almost resembling laughter. Then, the skeleton began rising of its own accord, and stood opposite Woe, who's mouth was agape at this point. The skeleton's empty sockets met Woe's eyes, and then it hissed, and lunged for him faster than any undead had a right to move.
Woe bolted backward, and then began sprinting back toward the house, or where he understood the house to be. All the while, the skeleton was hot on his heels, clearly angry that he'd stolen its boots! He ran and ran, and found the boots were very good for running. He made it around the bend, when he had an idea. He took a run around the bend, into the copse where many of
the black widows lived
. Their home was a bit of a garden as well, but for now, Woe wasn't concerned about finding something to eat, not yet.He wanted to lose that skeleton!
He ran through the low branches of Mother’s Garden, where she kept the black widows and her favorite crops. It was festooned with silken webs here and there, and Woe had to slow down to navigate his way around the tightly wound webs. Fortunately, it wasn’t too long before the skeleton arrived after him, but this creature was seemingly blind and mindless, as it only saw Woe’s newly stolen boots.
It got caught on the webs behind Woe, as he moved forward. He turned on his heel, and regarded the strange haunt that the skeleton presented. It was around this time that he noticed the skeleton wore some of the cast-off clothing of Woe’s. Was this another of Mother’s children? One that had escaped the house. Terror suddenly gripped Woe as he realized he’d made a mistake in finding himself out of doors.
But now, he’d have to find a way through the copse of black widows. Thankfully, his boots tread the ground fairly gracefully. He was able to move in and around the webs, and find his way into Mother’s herb and vegetable garden.
He heard a strange humming, disembodied and unknown. He heard his name being called on the wind, or perhaps it was just that, the wind. Having a name with one syllable was sometimes strange like that. You’d hear noises and then think that someone was calling you.
So he ignored this voice, mostly, and went into the herb garden. His tummy was rumbling, and he wanted something to eat. But he knew that Mother’s Garden was guarded by her black widows still. Although the webs were harder to see, they were there, attached to every piece of pristine piece of fruit or veggie. They were all undisturbed by any pests. The Black Widows all took them to their lairs after wrapping them in invisible webs and bringing them into hiding. So it wasn’t easy to see where the webs were, exactly.
It was then that Woe remembered the pups in his pocket, squeaking piteously. He thought to give these
rodents
over to the Black Widows, as an offering in exchange for one of those delicious fruits.He approached a low-hanging tomato vine, and with no further delay, he released the small rat pups, watching as they made a bee-line for that tomato. Then, they got caught on an invisible cord. They struggled mightily. While Woe pitied the
pain
they’d have to endure as the black widows dragged them away, he was hungry. It was them, or his hunger, that was what he told himself.So as the black widow came out and snatched up the pups one by one, wrapping them up in invisible webs, Woe took the opportunity presented by the now
undefended tomato
. He reached out, and plucked the fruit. And with it in hand, he took a bite.
