HOME | DD

Description
A bird's song echoes across the landscape although the sky was still dark, the shapes of the mountains visible only by starlight and only to the focused eye.
The Trees stand silent like soldiers staring intimidating from their canopies as the figure passes silently at a speed not fast, yet not slow, the pace of an individual willing to be elsewhere, but only faster than that which follows from a distance.
As the night begins to fade the landscape begins to hesitantly reveal itself to any present to witness its details existence.
Trees begin to take on detail, flowers and fungi begin to show their vibrant colours for either attracting or warding various insects to their locations.
The Colours create a surreal surrounding for the figure who examines the world filtered and drained of all but the few colours of the flowers, then moves on without losing pace.
A small flock of wild creatures native to the region observe the figures movement from a distance, mostly losing interest once the potential threat is determined to be low, grazing in the pre-morning gloom while several members of the flock take turns to act as sentry for the others.
As the shadows continue to fade, all but the brightest stars having faded from the fast approaching dawn, the figure is revealed to be not wandering mindlessly, but following a trail of sorts, far too small and disused to be called a road, but used enough by someone or something to remain clear of obstructions.
Rocks begin to litter the road, not enough to be noticed as deliberately being put there, and not consistent enough to be an attempt at stopping the plants from growing over the track, the paths invisibility seems to be the primary concern of its regular user, if the path was visible it would be a worthless in what is required of it, its ability to only let pass those who already know its location.
Time passes and the sky turns blue, thin clouds stretch across the sky, translucent sheets of vapour moulded by the winds above the mountains.
The figure moves with intent, changing direction repeatedly and seemingly without reason to the eye of an onlooker, but follows the path through the trees precisely, as if making the steps of a complicated dance between the unmoving members of the dance, the trees.

As the first rays of light escape the gap between the horizon and the thick bank of cloud just above, the canopy is washed in gold and an explosion of birdsong rings out from the nests far above the forest floor.
Another walks the trail the figure walked a short time before, a being that wishes to track the figure, and is doing so, so far, with great efficiency.
The being enters the proximity of the flock and is detected almost instantly by one of the sentries, which sounds a warning which alerts the rest of the flock of imminent danger approaching.
Fear washes over the flock like a scent on the breeze, the flock as a whole stands alert aware of danger but not of the dangers location, for they cannot see the being, its visual presence nonexistent to the eye, as it passes them at its distance.
The being becomes instantly aware of the flock's presence, even before visual contact can be made, not that visual contact could possibly help the flock determine the threat.
It feels their presence, it can smell them, it knows when they in turn have noticed it, and it knows that they cannot tell where it is.

Their scent a cocktail of fur and grass and sweat an earth is suddenly polluted by the stench of fear.
The flock's fear radiates from them like a siren only the being can hear, although the only sound is the choir of birds waking in the canopies radiant gold glow, this causes the being to hesitate and ponder its decision.
The flock knows its presence but cannot see its approach or determine its location, very few things have ever seen its approach, and those that have either didn't live to tell or were so unsure of what they saw that they would simply determine it a mirage or a trick of the light, its form does not hinder the lights rays the way that any other thing does, but it only hesitates before the flock for it is unsure whether the flock would slow its tracking or the figure.
The Flock stare at the being, or more accurately, the lack of being where their senses claim the threat to be, the beings presence to the flock is bewildering, no scent emanates from the beings location, the bushes and trees surrounding it do not move, which is odd, for a morning breeze is buffeting the branches nearby but not near the being.
The grass surrounding the being is frozen in time, the breeze does not penetrate the beings perimeter and the grass stays held still unexplainably.
However the flock can tell the beings location, because if the sound it makes.
A sound not unlike the cracking of knuckles occasionally echoing from the beings location, quietly but somehow louder than the harmony of the entire forest, as if the sound is not from the landscape but from within your mind like a memory that is too old to remember.

A moment passes and the being's decision is made, it moves away from the flock and begins to follow the figures scent trail again amongst those of other creatures that travel across the forest trail and returning to its pace Stalking between the trees.
The flock unsure of what to make of the beings fading presence begin to depart, attempting to casually but quickly put a significant distance between themselves and the being.
However as the flock moves one remains, still looking at where the being once stood.
One of the sentries stands as if oblivious to the flocks waning presence.
The sentry takes a step forward toward the beings previous location, it moves unnaturally as if its skin is too small for its body.
Its details are wrong, it moves unnaturally, as a whole it seems to be one of the flock, but its separate details do not match that of any of the flock, the most disturbing detail however is the fine stitching across parts of its body, holding its skin together holding the real sentry within the skins of one of the flock.
This sentry is no member of the flock, although its skin once was.
the sentry having gained its balance, sets off following the being at a safe distance, seeing both creatures that have passed by and having made its decision, begins to track the being.
As it passes beyond the visual range of the flock, it gradually transforms from moving awkwardly on all fours to its hind legs, almost vertical and humanoid in posture and appearance.
Still wearing its flock skins, and creating a confusingly morbid sight, the sentry begins to follow the forest trail.

The figure, having made considerable progress, reaches a river intersecting the trails direction, which accordingly turns upstream and follows the bank headed toward the distant foot hills.
The figure however slows at this point and proceeds toward a clump or reeds along the bank slightly downstream from the path.
Parting the reeds the figure finds a small, agile boat just large enough for one concealed from opportunistic others and boards it immediately, and without hesitation directs it out into the current.
The rivers surface is still and the river is deep bit this does not concern the figure, who turns the boat and begins to travel downstream.

The being has reached the path amongst the trees and suddenly the figures intent reveals itself.
The entire forest nearby is riddled with the figures scent which leaves and returns from various directions creating a cloud of scent for the beings nose to un-riddle.
The being however is in no way going to allow itself to be slowed by its quarries games and becomes entirely still.
The beings cracking sounds cease and are replaced by the single strike of an enormous chime.
The chime is heard instantly by all the creatures within the forest, birds erupt from the canopies in confusion, creatures fleeing in all directions, the figure and the sentry both pausing momentarily before quickening their pace.
The trees surrounding the being begin to splinter and rot, collapsing and disintegrating into dust as the single deafening sound emanates from the being itself.
Sunlight fills the dead clearing as parts of the forest floor are covered in light it has not seen in centuries, the being begins to move again toward the only trail of the figures scent left, leaving the new clearing on the far side.

The figure now knows what hunts it, if only for the sound it makes, and a new fear enters the figures mind.
What if I fail?