Today I woke up in my old, familiar room, and I must say, it's smaller than I remember. It probably seemed bigger when I first arrived, likely because of the bed replacing my old crib, or maybe because I've almost doubled in size since then. Or maybe I'm just overthinking it.
Hop
After jumping out of bed, I begin my daily ritual: cleaning up with a damp cloth, brushing my teeth with a totally-not-suspicious mixture of herbs from the forest, making my bed, and finally, changing my clothes. Today, I opt for a simple light brown tunic with a linen belt and shorts. Only after completing this routine can I leave the room. It's crucial that everything be done in this exact order and that no task takes longer than five minutes! Otherwise, the entire day will be ruined!
As I open the door, I'm greeted by a familiar sight: Grandma sitting at her table, with all the things I neatly organized the day before scattered across the entire room, as if a tornado had swept through overnight.
As I bend down to pick up a random object on the floor—an object which happens to be a wolf skull—I hear the familiar, and heavily "quoted," pleasant voice of my dear Grandma.
"Leave my things where they are, or I won't be able to find them later!"
And, being the obedient child I am, I completely ignore her request and continue doing the only sensible thing: cleaning this pigsty she calls a house. For this, she narrows her eyes, seemingly trying to make her face more wrinkled than it already is—if that's even possible. She scratches her chin thoughtfully, and I swear I can hear her teeth grinding from across the room.
"Ah, you brat! Get over here! You've got more important tasks to do than cleaning!"
Huh? Now that's a surprise. I don't remember having anything special planned for today. With that thought, I stop cleaning and walk over to the old witch, standing by the table and waiting for her to explain this "important task."
"It's about time you stopped being such a lazy freeloader! As you can see, I'm out of ink, and I need you to head into the forest and hunt a beast for me" she declares solemnly, as though this were a life-or-death mission of the utmost priority.
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And here I am, at the edge of the forest, carrying a basket bigger than me. If you want to know how I ended up here, I can't explain it to you—I honestly don't remember! The only thing running through my mind right now is:
'Lazy freeloader?! Oh, she'll see who's lazy! Oh, she'll see'
Ahem
Anyway, my mission today is complicated. It's also my first time going into the woods alone, and—let me remind you—I'm only 3 years old! What on earth is that witch thinking, sending me on a dangerous mission like this?! Not that I can do anything about it now; she won't let me back inside until I finish the task. That irrational old hag.
About the mission—like she said earlier, I need to hunt a wood rat. It's a species native to this region, quite large for a field rat too, growing up to 40 centimeters long, though finding one that size is rare. What makes this mission even more complicated, besides the obvious issue of me being 3 years old, you ask? It's a rat. In a forest. Need I say more?
Plus, as the name suggests, these rats camouflage themselves on tree trunks. Good luck spotting one in a forest like this. And as if that weren't enough, there are at least 13 different species of rats around here—and, of course, the one I need to hunt is the rarest!
Why do I need this particular rat? Apparently, its blood makes excellent ink. Who knew? But enough daydreaming; I need to focus if I want to sleep in a bed tonight.
With renewed determination, I begin my search for the elusive rat, leaving no stone unturned, no root unchecked, no hole undisturbed!
And that's how I've spent the last three hours—essentially looking for a needle in a haystack. Except, in this case, the hay is made of stinky moss, and the pile is at least 100 times larger. Oh, and the needle moves. In short, the past three hours have been a total failure!
Tired, I sit down on a fallen log to rest and think of a solution to my current problem. Looking around, I can't help but admire the forest. Finally taking a moment to observe, the first thing I notice is the air. It smells of damp earth, decaying leaves, and the freshness of the surrounding vegetation with every breath. The ground is soft and uneven, covered with moss, dry branches, and protruding roots that seem eager to trip you up. Birds chirp in the distance, mingled with the rustling of leaves in the gentle breeze.
Sunlight filters through the canopy of towering trees, creating small golden beams that dance in the air. Sometimes, the path suddenly darkens when the trees cluster more densely, as if trying to hide some secret further ahead. The trunks are thick, some covered in ivy, others with rough, cracked bark, standing as silent witnesses to decades, maybe centuries, of growth.
The only thought that crosses my mind is how ancient and beautiful this forest is. Honestly, I wouldn't be surprised if these trees were older than some castles I've seen before. It's probably because there's so little human activity here that this forest has remained so untouched… Which makes my mission even harder than I originally thought.
It quickly dawns on me that actively searching for these rats is hopeless. This forest is the kind of place where you're more likely to be hunted than to do any hunting yourself.
'Think, Phoebe, think. There must be a way to find this rat,' I tell myself.
While catching my breath, a sudden pain shoots through my legs, and I jump up from the log.
"Ouch, ouch, ouch! What's going on?!"
Looking down, I realize the log is crawling with ants—and not just the log, but my legs too! Why didn't they start biting until they reached my butt?! I need to get them off me fast.
I quickly grab a thick cloth from my basket and rub my legs furiously. And then I notice something curious—the ants are biting me, but for some reason, I don't really feel it.
'Wait, oh! Of course! My legs are covered in scales! If they could easily bite through them, those scales would be useless'
This realization hits just as I finish brushing off the last of the ants. I return to the log to examine it more closely and, perhaps, to exact some revenge on those snooty ants.
'Hmm, it looks like this log is where their colony is. That explains why there were so many'
Watching the ants more closely, I notice something interesting: they leave trails wherever they go. And why is this important? Well, if ants as small as these leave tracks that I can follow, surely a rat 100 times bigger must leave tracks too!
'That's it! This is the missing clue! Thanks, little ants! I never, for even a second, thought about destroying your home—nope, not at all. I'm so grateful!'
Besides, the ants reminded me that I'm not in my backyard, and this forest is a dangerous place. I could be attacked at any moment. I'm really thankful I learned this from an ant bite and not from a larger predator. From now on, I'll stay alert at all times.
But this new insight isn't enough to lead me directly to my target. Now, I need to know where to look for the tracks.
'Come on, Phoebe, you must know something about this rat... Wait, what did the Old Lady say about them again? These rats live in colonies of up to 20 individuals in tree holes. Their blood makes ink, their skin is good for paper… And their feces are excellent repellents because they smell strongly of lavender! So, I just need to find the smell of lavender'
With a more focused plan in mind, I resume my search, though I must clarify—it doesn't make things that much easier. The smell of moss and decaying leaves is still overwhelmingly dominant.
Sniff sniff
About two hours later, I finally catch a faint whiff of lavender.
'It's nearby. I can feel it'
After crouching and searching carefully for a while, I finally find what looks like a burrow between the roots of a tree. This must be it—the scent coming from the hole is strong.
'Okay, but now what? My hand, even though it's small, doesn't fit into this hole, and I have no idea how deep it goes. If I remember correctly, rats are nocturnal animals, so if I wait here until nightfall, they should come out. But can I really catch them with my bare hands? No… I need to set a trap'
Realizing this, I start planning what type of trap I should make. After thinking it over, I decide to go with a snare trap—it's the best option since it will catch the rats alive, preserving both the blood and the skin. Searching through my basket, I find some wooden pots I can use to catch them, a rope to set up the trap, and a small knife, which I put on my belt. I still need boards to serve as the trapdoor, bait to lure the rats, and something to dig a hole with. I have almost 10 hours left, so there's plenty of time to gather the materials.
Let's get to work!
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After about an hour of searching, I manage to find everything I need and finally start setting up the trap. First, I dig a hole big enough to hold the wooden pot. Since I couldn't find anything to use as a shovel, I had to dig with my hands. Then I made a "board" by tying together some branches with a piece of rope. For bait, I collected some berries and a few bugs—hopefully, that'll do.
'Finally, my hands hurt after all that digging'
Setting up the trap took about an hour and a half. The plan is simple: I built the trap right in front of the burrow entrance, so when the rats come out, they'll smell the food and go after it. When more than two rats step onto the trapdoor, the board will collapse, trapping them all inside. Then I'll just need to collect my prize. A foolproof plan.
But then a sudden thought struck me.
'What if the burrow has more than one exit?'
The saying goes that a clever rabbit has multiple entrances to its burrow, and there's nothing stopping a rat from doing the same. Sure enough, after looking around the tree, I find two more holes. Suddenly, my seven and a half hours don't seem like so much time anymore. I obviously can't leave these holes uncovered. There's a chance none of the rats will come out of the entrance where I set the trap. But I can't cover them either—it would spook the rats.
My only option is to build more traps. Yay.
I run to gather more materials and, after two hours, I get what I need and start building the other traps. With a bit more practice, I reduce the time to one hour each. Now I have three and a half hours to rest and wait.
And so I wait. After testing the traps to ensure they work, I climb into a nearby tree to watch.
...
Three hours later, I finally see movement at the first entrance. Small eyes cautiously peek out, and a tiny nose sniffs the crushed berries. Carefully, a rat emerges and finds the bait. After some hesitation, it approaches to eat. Following its lead, five smaller rats exit the burrow and do the same. One steps onto the trapdoor. Two step on it, and—uh-oh, this is a problem—it should have triggered by now. When the fifth rat steps onto the platform, the trap finally activates. It collapses, sending the four rats tumbling down. But the bigger rat, experienced and quick, manages to escape, leaving only the three unlucky ones trapped.
'Yes! It worked!'
Despite the trap's minor malfunction, I'm thrilled to have caught my prey. I retrieve the box and place it in my basket. Excited, I move on to the second trap—empty. Oh well, you can't win them all. I grab the empty pot and continue.
Undeterred, I head toward the third trapdoor. As I approach it, a sudden chill runs down my spine. Cold sweat trickles down my body, and every instinct screams:
'Jump!'
I leap to the left with all my might, just as a rush of air passes by my right side. I glance over and see a snake, at least 50 centimeters long, falling to the ground.
Hissss!
It's clearly annoyed by its failed ambush and prepares to strike again. Now, I get a good look at it. Its scales are yellowish-green, like dry leaves—a perfect camouflage on the forest floor. Its large, black eyes gleam unnaturally, and two long horns jut from its snout. Its long fangs send a simple message: venom!
My heart stops. The snake is huge, and its cold, shining eyes are locked onto me. I know I can't win this by force. The moment I saw it, I knew.
My mind races. The snake pulls back, ready to lunge again. I take a step back, trying to stay calm.
'Shit, shit, shit. Think, Phoebe! Panicking won't save you now!'
What can I do? What can I do?
A million ideas swirl in my mind, but none seem possible.
'My only weapon is the knife at my waist, but it's too small, and the snake's too fast—no chance. Run? It'll catch me before I can take two steps. Use my basket as a shield? No time to take it off. Is there really nothing I can do?'
The snake lunges, and I know I won't dodge it this time. In that split second, a memory surges to the forefront of my mind, and I know exactly what to do.
As the snake strikes, I raise my right leg. Its fangs hit my scales, and though the impact hurts, the fangs can't pierce them. Seizing my chance, I draw the knife from my belt and, with all my strength, plunge it into the snake's head.
The blade sinks in. The snake thrashes violently, hissing in pain. But I hold firm, twisting the knife to keep it from escaping. It writhes once more, but its strength fades. Finally, it goes still.
Panting, I back away, staring at the motionless snake.
'I really need to thank those ants for all their help today…'
The memory was that of the ants failing to bite my legs earlier, so I put all my bets into the snake being unable too, irresponsible? Absolutely, but hey, it worked.
After a few minutes, I remember I'm still in the forest at night. Resting here is not an option. I get up and check the trap—two rats caught. I pack the box into my basket, return to the snake, prod it to make sure it's dead, and toss it into the basket too. Then I sheath my knife and start running back to the cabin.
'Now she will see who is a relaxed freeloader! I hunted five of these damned rats! And a whole snake too!'
Though the night is dark, I find my way, and after an hour, I finally see the cabin ahead. But before I can reach the door, I collapse, exhaustion overtaking me.
"Who would've thought you'd actually pull it off, huh? Little monster"
I hear a familiar raspy voice behind me, but I'm too tired to respond.
"Heh, I guess I went too far this time, huh? I owe you an apology, brat"
Her voice fades as I drift into sleep, right there on the ground.
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