August 15, 2018 | Posted in The Mermaid & The WolF Adventures
As one might imagine, getting through the field of rapeseed flowers without a wolf to carry her is very difficult business. It’s slow going, too, as MeaZea drags herself over the soft foliage, crushing golden flowers under the bulk of her tail. Her arms ache. It’s been a long time since she’s had to do something like this.
“Not to worry,” says the rabbit, as though she can read MeaZea’s thoughts. “We’ll have someone to carry you, soon.”
“I don’t need to be carried,” says MeaZea. It seems like something of a betrayal, asking for a ride from someone that’s not WooFZee.
The rabbit tells her, “don’t be stubborn. The Caretaker lives very far from here. If you want to make it to him, you’re going to need to move faster than this. There’s no shame in admitting you need help, and even less shame in knowing that you might need help from more than one person. This world is harsh. Sometimes, we must make difficult decisions. Sometimes, those decisions are only difficult because we make them that way.”
Eventually, the golden field of rapeseed flowers gives way to a forest. Mountains can be seen in the distance, dramatic peaks, deep valleys, and unparalleled autumn foliage in the distance. Whenever the wind blows, it carries with it the salt-tang of the sea and the sweet hint of flowers.
MeaZea’s palms are covered in scratches. Her arms ache. A heavy exhaustion has settled over her. Always, the rabbit stays a few steps ahead. She asks, “do you hear that?”
MeaZea’s head pops up. “That’s…running water?”
“There will be someone who can help you at the waterfalls,” says the rabbit. “If you choose to adjust, we can carry on, and eventually come across the Caretaker of the land. Should you choose to reject their offer…there is a chance you will not make it to the Caretaker.”
MeaZea doesn’t respond.
They carry on.
The waterfalls are a magnificent sight.
They crash down seemingly from the center of the air. Only, rather than water, they pour star dust into a massive black lake. The lake functions as a sheet of black glass, forever still and empty. It swallows the silver star dust without a sound. Not even a ripple or a wave.
It’s unsettling. MeaZea doesn’t like being around water that doesn’t actually act like water.
The rabbit hops right up to the bank of the pitch black lake. “Will you accept their help?”
MeaZea asks, “they can get me to the caretaker?”
“And the Caretaker will fix WooFZee?”
“I told you once, I will not say it again,” huffs the rabbit. “Make your choice. Be certain of the one you give me.”
Katelynn E Koontz – Author