A silent breeze swept through the woods, filling the forest with the sound of rustling leaves.
The entire islet had been eerily quiet that day. A faint golden glow enshrouded the forest as the sun seeped through the crown of trees, splattering the undergrowth in a myriad of light.
There weren't any creatures in sight, and none could be heard either. Even the trees in the area, stood silently still, their iridescent barks shimmering carefully in the glowing gold mist.
It was almost as if the entire forest was on edge. Even the trees seemed to have sensed something that had frightened them. The curious vines that usually wandered, snaking through the forest floor, now withdrew themselves and struck close to the base of the trees. For a magical forest, it was rather unusual and too quiet.
The sound of heavy footsteps running, echoed through the woods and interrupted the silent atmosphere. The sound of rustling leaves and twigs snapping, grew louder and louder.
Suddenly, a figure dashed out from the undergrowth and made a beeline through the trees, nervously glancing behind him.
He was rather sorry looking. His face, sweated profusely underneath the shawl that barely hung and covered his features. His clothes were disheveled and torn in a few places. His arms and legs were covered in small scrapes that he must've gotten from running through branches.
He looked back at the bushes he had just emerged from and gulped.
He felt rather pitiful.
He had peacefully been surveying the area when he had decided to stop by the islet for a break. Just as he had finished gathering food for lunch, he found himself in a part of the woods that was tinged with hints of rot and decay.
A number of trees stood lifeless before him. The iridescent shimmer of their barks had been replaced by a monotonous gray. He cautiously noted the golden mist thinning out, almost completely disipitating as he slowly inched forward.
He took a sharp breath in and stopped dead in his tracks.
A small number of creatures were scattered across the forest floor, the life drained out of them. Their carcasses looked like they had been pruned to death. His stomach lurched at the thought as he whispered to himself,
"Territory"
He couldn't believe his luck. He had been looking for lunch and yet somehow in his search, like an idiot, he found himself sauntering shamelessly around offering himself up to be Lunch.
'.. oOOops...' the young surveyor thought.
He knew something felt off the moment he stepped foot into the islet. The fact that none of the trees here were moving should've been enough to deter him from venturing in further. He had been too complacent.
The figure ran and maneuvered through the mass of roots and undergrowth, his eyes frantically searching the trees for clues he had left behind that would lead him right into the part of the banks where he had disembarked from his canoe.
"Right there!" His face brightened up as he saw the red marking on the tree. He dashed ahead and turned right, and saw more markings along the way. His heart pounded in his chest, as sweat trickled down his spine. He was almost there. He could already hear the sound of the steady stream. He ducked through a low branch and jumped through a ditch. He could see it! He could see the banks of the water and his canoe tied loosely on a Coralgrove's root. Just a few meters away!
He ran harder.
His hand reached into his side satchel and hurriedly felt for a small pouch. Just as his hand finally felt the rough skin of the pouch, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up.
A shiver ran through his spine.
His eyes went wide as he continued to make a run for his life. He didn't dare to slow down as whatever was following him was certainly gaining in on him. He pulled the pouch from his belongings and held his breath as he hastily opened it.
SCREEEECH!
A vicious loud noise tore through the silent forest behind him. It sounded like a million nails scraping against a chalkboard put on speaker.
He glanced back quickly as he shoved his his hand inside the pouch and ran towards the bank of the river. He faced forward and squinted trying to keep the sweat from dripping into his eyes. He was finally a few feet away from the canoe but the feeling of danger loomed closer and closer too. Scrunching his eyebrows, he scooped up a handful of the tar like mixture and slapped it on to the closest base of the tree that faced the river and shoved the half-opened pouch into his satchel.
He gagged as he took a mouthful of air in. The stench was horrid and burned the insides of his nose. He jumped right into the water, knee-deep, and sloshed frantically towards the canoe. He used the propped roots to help himself climb clumsily aboard.
Suddenly the pressure that weighed heavily on the air was released and the danger he sensed disappeared.
However, this did nothing to comfort the sorry figure who had just boarded the small canoe.
Instead, his heart beated faster and his movements became more frantic as he reached for the hilt of his knife. He pulled it free from it's sheath and slashed the vine that he used to anchor the canoe in place. He glanced back at the woods and cursed.
He could see it.
He threw the knife onto the deck, grabbed the sides of the boat, and pushed his foot hard against the propped root, propelling the canoe forward. The adrenaline rushing through his body gave him the extra strength he needed to row himself further away from the shore.
It was right there.
...
A dark outline stalking the rim of the woods, glaring at him.