Strange Signs of Life
The strange talking sounds from the night before, the howls and clicks, stayed in my head.
They made me wonder if the village's fear was wrong.
The villagers were still scared and talked about bad luck and the forest being angry.
But I felt like I was starting to understand something new, because of the werewolf's quiet word and the clicking creature's curious look.
My arm still hurts a little, reminding me of the scary red-eyed creature.
But now I also felt like I needed to protect the werewolf and his friend, who had saved me.
Old Man Hemlock was still quiet and mysterious.
He didn't explain anything more and often looked far away, like he knew many secrets.
Mom was happy I was back, but she looked at me worriedly, with questions she didn't ask.
Even though they were worried, I still really wanted to go back to the Blackwood.
It felt like the leaves were quietly calling me.
My curiosity, now even stronger because of the strange things I had seen, pulled me back to the dark trees.
The forest had a way of talking that I was starting to understand, much more interesting than the village's scary stories.
A few days later, my arm was still a little sore but I could move it, so I went back to the edge of the forest.
The air felt different, like it had a hidden energy.
The smells I knew, like pine and wet dirt, now had a wilder, more animal-like smell mixed in.
I walked carefully under the trees, holding the wooden piece in my pocket.
It felt warm, like it was connected to the secret world inside.
The usual sounds of the forest, like birds singing and leaves moving, seemed different, like the air itself was alive with secrets.
I followed a small path made by animals, looking at the ground.
I wanted to find anything strange, anything that could tell me about the creatures I had seen, about the different kind of life in the forest that the village didn't know about.
The forest floor was like a book, and the tracks and smells were telling a story the villagers had never read.
I saw some footprints that were different from any I knew.
They were big, much bigger than a wolf's, but they looked a little like human feet.
The marks in the soft dirt showed five toes, but longer and sharper than a person's.
There were no claw marks, but the footprints were deep, like something heavy had walked there.
Inside, I tried to figure out what made these tracks.
They weren't from a dog or a person.
What kind of creature could make them?
A big animal no one knew about? Or something… else? Something that was between animal and human?
Further on, I found some moss that was also strange.
It wasn't the shiny moss from deeper in the forest, or the normal moss near the village.
This moss was a deep black color and felt a little warm when I touched it. It felt strangely alive, almost like soft fur.
The forest had secrets not just in its creatures, but in the plants themselves.
My curiosity grew.
What was this moss made of? Why was it black and warm?
I carefully took a small piece and put it in my bag.
I really wanted to study it.
As I kept looking around, I heard a sound that made me stop.
It was far away, carried by the soft wind, but I could hear it clearly – a deep, rumbling growl, different from a wolf's warning.
It was lower, rougher, and sounded a little… sad? It echoed through the trees and made me feel a little scared but also strangely like I knew it.
It sounded like the werewolf.
Inside, I felt pulled between fear and a feeling of connection.
The growl could be a warning, but it also felt like a lonely call, reminding me that smart creatures lived in this place people feared.
Later, as the sun started to go down, making long shadows on the ground, I saw another strange sign.
High up on an old tree, too high for any animal I knew, were deep scratches.
They were longer and sharper than any claw marks I had seen, almost like they were made with a tool.
The forest was quietly telling secrets with tracks, smells, and sounds I couldn't understand.
I held my breath.
Claws that could reach that high? And the way the marks looked… it seemed smart, like someone meant to make them.
It wasn't just an animal scratching a tree.
I carefully touched the rough bark, feeling the deep lines.
What kind of creature could make these?
The skinny, red-eyed thing? Or something else?
I thought about all the scary and amazing possibilities.
As it got darker, I heard another sound, closer this time.
It was a soft, steady clicking, the sound of the werewolf's friend.
It sounded like it was moving near me, quietly letting me know it was there.
Inside, I felt a little relieved and even more curious. They knew I was there.
They weren't trying to hurt me.
Maybe, just maybe, we could start to understand each other.
Then, as I was about to go back to the village, I heard a different sound, carried by the cool night air.
It was a quiet, almost musical humming sound, high and strange, not like any sound in nature I knew.
It seemed to come from deeper in the Blackwood, from a place I hadn't gone to yet.
The forest had songs and secrets that were much more than the village's scary stories.
I stood still, listening hard to the strange sound.
It went up and down softly, like a heartbeat far away, and the air around me felt a little different, like it had a quiet energy.
What could be making this sound?
A bug I didn't know? Or something… else?
Something connected to the deeper secrets of the Blackwood, maybe even the sleeping danger Old Man Hemlock had talked about?
The clicking sound stopped, and for a moment, the only sound was the strange humming.
Then, I saw a shadow move quickly behind some thick bushes.
It was big, too big for a deer, too smooth for a bear.
My heart beat fast.
The werewolf? Or something else, drawn by the strange humming sound?
As I stood there, caught between the fear I knew from the village and the strong pull of the Blackwood's mysteries, the humming sound got louder, and the ground under my feet started to shake a little.
The air got colder, and a soft, strange light started to come from deep in the forest, like it was calling me to its hidden heart.
The strange signs of a different kind of life had just become a clear call to the unknown, and I knew, for sure, that I had to go.
I had to find out what was making that sound.