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Prompt: You wake up in the forest. How you got there isn’t important right now. But the thing is that you’ve been given a time limit by a sinister voice who acts like this is just the first round in some demented game. Whether or not you really want to play, you do know that you don’t want to stay here.
Ali was used to the dark and creepy. So the fact that he was here in an unknown and unsoecified forest, well, it hardly caused him distress. The fact that he was hobbled by some vines and not on his hooves…. Well, this wasn’t usual, but given his parents, and his mother’s penchant for mischief that was deadly at times, it still wasn’t any cause for him to get upset or even shaken out of his normal apathy regarding such situations. He clambered ungracefully to his hooves. The vines were well place and well tied to keep him off balance and yet not cause harm, if he was careful to respect the limits they imposed. He admired them briefly as he tested the bonds. They were rather expertly placed, and not by anyone he recognized. If not for the sudden voice, he would have spent time to carefully examine how it was done, to commit it to memory for future recreation. They were well done, and the possibilities for it were endless… he was sure even Wisp would see the beauty and potential these bonds had.
He sneered disdainfully as this Voice laid out the terms of this so-called game. Pathetic. He had been raised in this type of environment. It was where he had grown and not only survived but thrived… Besides, this disembodied voice hardly held a candle to the one he loved and feared the most. Only Wisp could create fear in him. This, this little diversion wasn’t even worth a second of his time or consideration. It wasn’t a diversion, nor did it seem to be like anything fun.
He was out of here… Just as soon as he got out of these damned binds… which were actually kinda clever. He started first with the knots he could reach with his fangs. Breaking one here, which loosened the binds there, but tightened them elsewhere. And when he managed to get that one, all progress made all but disappeared, and he was more ensnared then when he had begun. Very well. If this was how this Voice wanted to do things, he would play along with this twisted game. He would get out of this forest, he would find this Voice and he would show them the meaning of fear before tearing them apart bit by bit. Physically, mentally, however he decided. And it would all depend on how this game played out. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth, he would ensure that every injury and insult done unto him would be repaid tenfold.
After a long time of testing and trying, and ending up more tangled than when he began, in what could have been mere moments or even an hour, he managed to figure out the trick of it. It had been something so simple. A single knot tied just where it was all but impossible to reach without assistance, and it was one that was so easy to overlook. It was beautiful in its simplicity, and clever in its placement. He would remember this once he got out of this ridiculous place. Once he managed to find the one who brought him here, and subjected him to this farce…
This done, he would abide by the terms. He would get out of the forest. He would win. There was no other option.
As soon as he managed to break the bonds, the immediate surrounds went from dark to darker, to the purest of black. So much so that it was as if he were blind. And more so, it was unnatural and he could no longer seem to feel anything. So he was down two senses… What was the purpose of this? What was this supposed to be? Was this the so-called “second trial”? How was this something frightening? Or dangerous, as the Voice had implied? At most, it could be humiliating.. only dangerous if there was some problem with the terrain. Was that the play here? To cause him to wander aimlessly about, through difficult terrain, until he ended up battered and broken somewhere? Perhaps he was meant to fall down into some ravine, to have his bones shattered by a fall. Or perhaps there was a bog meant to swallow him, for him to disappear without a trace.
That, that was something he could understand. After all, didn’t Wisp do something similar? Wasn’t his family ones who played such tricks with their prey… Was that was this was all about? Some twisted hunter turning the hunt into some twisted game. A game to build up the hope of the prey, to make them think they might have a fighting chance before breaking them down completely at the very last second? If so, what did that make him? Was he supposed to be prey? That would not happen. Not in this lifetime, nor any other.
With that in his mind, Ali took a breath and calmed his emotions. Yes this was beyond ridiculous. It was humiliating and degrading, but he wasn’t just some mindless usidia. He was the son of Wisp and Sikkhar and he was better than this. He was no mere mindless meal. And if anyone thought otherwise, they would be in for a rude awakening. If they thought him an easy mark, he would show them he was anything but.
This trial… this was something he could do easily. After all, was it not similar to what Wisp did? Sight was not important. It could also play tricks with one’s mind. And while this was strange. The pure darkness… he could block it out by closing his eyes, making his mind realise there was no light to be filtered, no images to interpret. Everything was fine. And while he couldn’t necessarily feel any branches or leaves near his body, he could just be on a path, and that was probably good.
All he had to do now was listen to the sounds as he picked his way out. He could hear the different sounds his hooves made on different terrain. Grass sounded different than dirt, which was different from stone, and the crackling of forest detritus grew lighter the further away from the center of the forest one got. At least that was how it was in the forest he called home. Perhaps this one wasn’t any different. He was betting it all on that fact.
He walked confidently forward. It might be the wrong direction, it might be the right, but it was the one he chose. He walked confidently onward. But as he went on, he might have gone for miles or more. The terrain seemed to change, and his hearing muddled, but eventually… eventually he noticed a change. The black wasn’t so black. The edges of darkness giving way to grey.
He had made it. This twisted game complete. He could finally get out and go on. It was the end. Having reached the end, Alli had had enough. The end was just there. He had come through this ridiculous game, but he had had more than enough. He could get out and go on his way, pretending that none of this had ever happened. But he would always bear the memories. Of the degredations and humiliations. Of the bruises to his pride… as himself, he could not let that stand. As the son of his parents, he would not let this stand. He would find the Voice and he would make them pay, and dearly at that.
This game was over. But perhaps now an even more deadly game was set to begin…
WC: 1269
