STORY: THE WOODS

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The air was still. My body swayed back and forth rhythmically as I rode my horse to the edge of the clearing. I was with three others but the forest in front of us looked as though it was a depraved creature that was lurking in the mist. The sun had just fallen over the tree tops when we finished our supper not long before. There was no stopping though. We had to continue through the night.

We stopped at the edge of the forest, looking in at the ominous glow. When my companions looked at me for reassurance, I nodded looking forward, not wanting to see my face if my resolve cracked. I was scared, just as they were. There was a feeling that held strong on my heart not to go on now, to wait until first light. My heart was beating faster and faster as we entered the forest at a slow crawl. We were reluctant to be finally swallowed by its depth.

We rode slowly, dodging low branches and fallen trees. Suddenly there was noise right above us. Our heads all snapped up when a group of birds took off from a tree above. I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Luckily, our horses stayed calm through the small commotion. We continued through the forest, but this time we picked up some speed. Still, we moved slower than a trot, ears straining to hear something that isn’t there.

“Was that our hoofs or something else?” I thought to myself.

I halted the group, putting my hand up to signal them. They stopped and the sound of hooves continued. The horses, now hearing the sound, started to show their protest. I was about to heed the beast’s advice when a huge white creature jumped out on the path before us. It was gone the other way within an instant. I looked after the blur of white and saw that it was not a fowl beast. It was a white horse with a woman on it to match. She had silver hair that reflected light even in the gloom of the forest. It wasn’t her hair that made me look twice though. It was the look of absolute terror that distorted her face.

“What was she running from? Why was she so afraid?” I asked myself. Soon after the answer appeared before me. Another blur shot past us. If I were to have blinked, I wouldn’t have seen it. But I did not blink. This time there was a burly man on a great black stallion. The man held a rage that blurred us from his vision. It seemed that all he could see or think about was catching that woman.

Carried by instinct, I kicked my horse hard in its sides to chase the two fleeing riders. What was I going to do once I caught up to them? I had no idea. All I knew was that she needed help and that I needed to give it to her.

I took off into the forest followed by my two companions. They were likeminded and spurred to action when they realized what they had just seen. The three of us race through the forest, unscathed by the low branches and unfazed by the downed trees. I heeled my horse to encourage it to move faster.

“They were getting away!” I shouted. 

 

***

“Logan … Logan! Dude, wake up! Quit kicking me man.” an irritated voice said from behind me.

I opened my eyes wearily, confused as to where I was. My brain finally cleared and I realized I was at camp. We rode horses the day before. That must have been the reason for that strange dream. I rolled over to get more comfortable on the hard ground. I pulled my sleeping bag up over my head and fell back to sleep.

Author’s Note: 
This story was very interesting and had a lot of different elements and people woven into it. It was essentially about a woman, princess, knight, you name it. She reminded me very much of Breanne (spelling?) from Game of Thrones. She is told (by a magic mirror) what her future is/ who her husband is. She was told he was this grand warrior and knight who never stayed in one place for too long. There is a scene in the beginning of the story that is much like the one I wrote but the character in mine is a boy and the main character doesn’t go after the woman but the other two do. I hope you liked my little twist ending! Thanks for reading.



Bibliography: Stories from the Faerie Queene by Mary Macleod