Anya shifted her weight once more as she stood at the entrance to the overgrown forest. The trek there had been uneventful and with nothing to stall her, she had simply willed herself to a stop. Losing all her momentum had been a bad idea though. She could feel the rising sun on her back and it warmed her in a way she wasn't sure she would ever feel again. Certainly not if she never emerged from these woods.

"CROAK!"

Anya just about jumped out of her skin as a raven passed overhead, its tremendous shadow darkening her surroundings for a split-second. "Okay, okay," she said, the adrenaline giving her the boost she needed to take that first step.

Without looking back, she pushed forward, the warmth and illumination of the sun fading with each step. An idle hand came up to caress the stone she wore around her neck. It was from a time when she had felt like another person, someone she had let go of many years ago now. And this trinket was all she had to remember that girl, a girl loved by her sister.

The breeze shifted as the raven swooped in a flashy maneuver, landing heavily on a moss covered branch. The impact caused small green clumps to dislodge and softly drift downward.

It hadn't taken long for the vegetation to shift, accommodating for the lack of sunlight. The forest floor was host to an array of ferns carpeted by a layer of dead leaves and fallen branches, soft from decay. There was a path which aptly bore the name 'Fool's Errand.' It was rarely used as most travelers preferred the main road that led to larger populations. Those needing to reach the coast were usually smart enough to head south and around the Silver mountains opposed to traversing the jagged peaks.

It was as if the surrounding terrain had given a multitude of reasons to avoid the forest. The Earth herself had contorted in an accommodating manner as if aware of the danger lurking within that blemish that was the Witch's Wood.

Anya cringed as a snap emanated from under foot. She really wasn't sure what she was more scared of. Between the witch and the wolves, she had no delusions of safety.

A flapping of wings alerted her to the raven's movements. It seemed to be tailing her along the shabby path, settling in a tree slightly ahead of her until she passed, only to reposition ahead of her once more.

Looking into the distance, darkness enveloped everything and the longer she stared, the more she was sure there was something looking back at her. The wretched bird called out, drawing the young girl's attention. "What?" she snapped, annoyance overriding her fear. After a good long stare she calmed, her posture relaxed, and she took a breath before addressing her boreal companion, "If you are going to stick around, you've got to stop doing that."

She ran her fingers through her blond locks in a sad attempt to tame her hair. Pulling the mass into a rough braid, she tied it off with a worn ribbon the color of rust and righted herself. "Alright... Bird. Here we go!" she said with enthusiasm.

"KOT!" the bird responded.

Anya sucked in a shaky breath. She knew that ravens made a plethora of strange noises. But that had sounded too much like her best friend's name. "What?" she asked quietly.

"CAW!" The raven flashed its wings in a quick motion before turning its gaze further up the path, seemingly done with her dilly-dallying.

Anya huffed, then set her feet moving. She rolled her shoulders and adjusted her sling bag, growing uncomfortable with the weight of her provisions. Well, that was a problem time would solve.

Her green eyes drifted upward to the canopy of twisted tree limbs. There would be no navigating from within these woods. Not that she had a destination. There was, of course, no known location of the witch's residence but that was not because no one had ever seen it. No, this witch had witnesses and the travelers that were brave enough to run the Fool's Errand weren't shy about completing it.

The reason Anya didn't know where to go was because the witch's hut moved. No one knew what sort of magic the witch used, only that the cacophony of movement could be heard from all the way outside of the wood.

She remembered the night that she and Kot had snuck out to the edge of the woods last summer. Towering trees fell within the forest, causing a great ruckus that echoed in the darkness. The more responsible members of the village had discouraged forming an audience but Anya had no parents who cared to stop her and Kot was his own man. Fulfilling a sort of morbid curiosity, they sat together and listened to the sounds of something unfathomable.

Anya stopped, noting the way her eyes were welling with tears. Brushing them dry with the back of her hands, she pushed forward and gave the raven a nod of appreciation for not berating her for losing pace.

The day was growing long and Anya was finding her negative emotions piling up. With tired legs and a hungry belly she was ready for a break. "Stopping," she called to her birdy-buddy, who was predictably stationed slightly ahead of her.

She heard a croak in response but ignored it as she stepped off the path and ventured into the underbrush to find a mossy patch. The raven followed her, hopping across to the edge of the path. It called again, only to be further ignored.

Anya pulled her shawl off to use as a make-shift blanket and settled down on it as if she was picnicking in the meadow behind the community center. She had always loved the view of the mountains from that spot. Yet another sentiment she needed to let go of.

She laid back and closed her eyes. They were hot, burning with unshed tears.

Without warning, a stinging sensation erupted on her chest, accompanied by a gust of wind to her face. Her wide eyes took in the overwhelming intrusion of the great black bird, who, having snatched her exposed necklace, left an angry red scratch with its talon. Yelping, Anya reeled back and the braided cord finally snapped. The raven pulled away instantly, carrying her token as its prize.

"Stop!" Anya yelled, scrambling to her feet to race after the creature. "I said stop!" she cried. Frustrations mounting, she eventually slowed as sobs overtook her. She moved to put on her bag but stopped, freezing in an awkward position. In realizing she had left her shawl behind in her haste, she let her legs buckle and she sat in a heap on the ground. It smelled musty, years of detritus accumulating undisturbed by man, for only a young girl would find themselves here.

She sat, her mind numb and her body getting there. What else was she to do? She had been told that she wouldn't need to do anything more than enter the woods for the witch to come for her. So where was the she-devil? Maybe the magic wasn't working because it wasn't actually her name that was chosen.

Was she seriously screwing up her own sacrifice?

How useless...

Her downward spiral was interrupted as the raven flew back into view. It perched barely above eye-level, a peculiar stone dangling on a string in the grip of its talons. The bird watched her, its head twitching this way and that as the nearby wildlife skittered away from the disruption of a crying girl and a raven.

Anya took great effort to stand before wordlessly approaching the traitor companion. It moved up ahead and paused as it had before, instantly making Anya annoyed. Was it really necessary to keep her from having a single break? She kicked at pine cones as they continued on in silence. What good was it to yell at a dumb bird?

It didn't feel like much time had passed when Anya noticed how her surroundings were beginning to fuzz. The light of day was fading and as the rest of the journey was seemingly through the dense wood, new concerns began to arise. She had been fortunate enough to keep her footing but that luck would run out and her guide was increasingly hard to see.

The night was also host to a variety of new noises, and so far, they were extremely unnerving. Anya tried to keep focus, but each new rumble or snort or whatever that was that disrupted the crickets and other discernible creatures weighed on her.

Wading through ferns, what sounded like a snap of teeth emanated from around her ankles, causing her to jump. She took a deep breath to calm herself but yelped when something spikey brushed up against her leg.

Anya ran, hurdling over roots and side-stepping the small holes created by the critters who called this nightmare home. She listened closely to the raven's calls to keep her heading in the right direction, as her eyes were needed for navigating the rough terrain.

Cutting it too close, Anya was pulled to a halt as her bag caught on a jagged tree branch. Her feet slipped out from under her and she landed on her back in a huff. With the wind knocked out of her, she rasped in a desperate breath as she witnessed the speckling of stars from beyond the canopy.

What happened if the witch never took her? Was her death meaningless if the wolves feasted on her flesh instead?

A chopping sound echoed through the woods, pulling Anya from her thoughts. She sat up, brushed off damp leaves, and moved toward the noise. The raven made itself known with exaggerated motions, which she appreciated as she was watching for black on black. It made small noises but seemed to be avoiding drawing unnecessary attention. As if on cue, a howl echoed through the chorus of nocturnal life and Anya found herself scrambling through the final stretch as she reached a clearing.

Initially elated, the relief was bittersweet, for there was only one house in these woods and it would offer nothing more than a different sort of danger.

Without pause, Anya stepped from the trees to see a small, dilapidated shack. She raised an eyebrow in confusion as she moved closer. There was, in fact, a wood-cutter's axe stuck into a stump, stationary, even though the chopping sound continued to resonate in an eerie rhythm.

As distracting as that was, she found herself drawn to the unusual doorway to the decrepit building. It was hard to discern in the darkness, but it appeared as if someone had trained and molded thorny briars into a sort of circle-arch around the entrance. It seemed an effective way to deter intruders, but why bother? There was nothing to the crumbling structure. In fact, everything about entering the shack seemed like a bad idea.

Which was why she was certain this was the way forward.

Turning in place, Anya sought out the troublesome bird. "Hey," she called as it came in close, "I need my necklace back now. You got me here, so I guess I'm not- well, no. I am mad. So, just give me back my necklace."

The raven cocked its head before flying up and at her. It moved as slow as a large bird could, attempting to land on her shoulder. Anya flinched but then steeled herself as it settled its miniscule weight on her. She reached up and retrieved the precious stone, her thumb rubbing against it in a familiar way before depositing it into her pocket.

The girl left her companion to find their balance as she scootched down to avoid getting scratched, and stepped tentatively into the arch. Palms out, she padded her way forward, her heart racing as she pushed her way through a curtain of dead vines and into a warmly lit cabin. 

WC 2010

TOTAL 4205