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Forest emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar emptystar

“Easy, easy,” he cooed to himself. “Like riding a bike. A four-legged, half ton, living, breathing bike.” A few more laps around the floor and he’d hit a rhythm. It wasn’t rocket science; just don’t think about it. If anything it required less finesse than what a human needed to walk on two legs. Before long he was making trips back and forth across the cabin like it was nothing. Put One Foot in Front of the Other from Santa Clause is Coming to Town started playing in his head, making him wonder, Do tigers even celebrate Christmas? Was there a tigertaur Jesus like there was a skunk and wolverine Jesus? Can you even crucify a tigertaur?


Once that morbid thought had passed, he wondered again what kind of world waited for him outside the cabin. What kind of society of tigertaurs existed out there? How was his family? Was this the same place as his apartment? Or somewhere else entirely? With no windows to peer through (or look at his reflection in) his only source for an answer was through the door in front of him. It was crude, like just about everything else around him. It hardly stood out against the surrounding walls, being made out of the same wood, it seemed. He sauntered over to it and pushed it open.


The light of the outside poured in, but he was not greeted by the hum of the city he lived in. There was no city, no apartment, no town, nor any other measure of civilization. Before him were the trees of a forest so dense he could not see past the first several yards. Their deciduous canopy blanketed the mossy ground with their shadow, letting through only the thinnest rays of sunlight. There were no other tigers, or any animate life to speak of. Only nature’s murmur was there to greet him, doing so only begrudgingly.


Jared stood in the doorway for a few moments longer, eyes scanning the yonder tree line. Is this it? Where am I? He took the first intrepid steps out into the open, feeling the moist earth sink beneath his paw pads. Looking to his right and left he saw nothing but more forest, its atmosphere blued over by a thin mist. His black ears strained into the woods, flickering at whatever hints of sound they could find. There was still precious little, none of which alluded to company.


Am I alone out here? Is this even anywhere near my apartment? He stepped the rest of the way outside, out of the cabin’s shade. He looked at it and saw that it resembled a hunting cabin like it had on the inside. If that’s what it was, what was he doing there? Was it his or someone else’s? Nothing resembling a trail led into the forest, leading him to doubt that it was meant for anyone else. If this was his place, then where had everything else gone?

Written by TheGreatJaceyGee on 14 December 2023

Both Through the Forest

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