thewishbunny's Request

The day was slow and he had stopped at the lake for some time to clear his mind. A sound alerted him to nearby game, and seeing as he had not caught anything as of yet, he circled around the lake. He strung his bow, allowing his to muscles flex instinctively, tensing and then releasing to get the perfect grip. He approached with silence, unable to see the animal, though it sounded fairly large. It seemed to be approaching faster and straight at him! As the beast shot through the brush, the Hunter let loose his arrow. He only caught a glimpse of the strange creature even though it was midair, jumping straight in his direction, before the thing burst into a strange flurry of butterflies. Through the haphazard mess that seemed to dissolve away, he noticed a figure jump gracefully into the air and pluck his loosed arrow from it. She landed, seemingly in slow motion, with the most grace he had ever seen. He swallowed, unsure of what he was seeing. This woman...seemed to be growing sharp feathers from her feet and hands. Some of these sharp feathers looked almost like metal discs draping from her shoulders down to her waist. From her head grew scraggly branches. The Hunter watched her as she examined the arrow in her hands. He had been so busy looking at all her other strange features, that he had not realized she had forgotten the close examination of the arrow. Her eyes were now on him, deep wells of mystery and a hint of...sadness? He wanted to say something--anything, but he was in awe at this strange presence. Was this the nymph of the forest that people spoke of? She cocked her head slightly, as if he were something to ponder. When she took that first step toward him, he felt a strong sense of fear slam into him. There was a strange pulse that grew hotter and stronger the closer she got. She was upon him then, the air seemed to open up and the air swirled with something he had never known. The sound of the forest swelled up, echoing in ways he had never known despite nearly ten years hunting it up and down. She stopped just in front of him. If he had wanted to, he didn't even have to use the full length of his arm to touch her. Her eyes seemed to close slowly as if she were making a decision. As her eyes opened, those deep wells were determined but filled with regret, "I'm sorry," her voice played out like a small bubbling stream as she plunged the arrow into his chest. A sharp pain encased his body and the only thought he had before his rebirth was the pain of death.

When he came to, the Nymph was gone and he was forced to figure out for himself if that was just a horrid dream. He drew a deep breath and a sudden rush of sounds hit him. The forest! The forest was speaking to him in loud tones that he couldn't decipher. He spend weeks coping with the madness. He slept and who he supposed was the Nymph, though he never saw her, left him fruits and berries for the coming day.

She had come to visit him one day that seemed even more troubling than usual. "You're not catching on very quickly are you? I had hoped you'd be done with this day two, but you're nearly into the third month now. The forest cannot continue this way." He shot her a glare beneath his arms, from where he was huddled to attempt and shield himself from the sound. But it was in his head. As she approached him, he scurried to get to his knees and then to stand so he could shrink back in fear, images of her stabbing him flashing into his head. Just who...

The next day, he fought to ignore the voices, but ventured up to the lake, the familiar lake. He looked down at himself and his eyes narrowed. This...who was this? His hair had grown as white as snow and he had branches growing from his head?! "Prince, the prince has finally seen himself!" The small rodent seemed to be watching his every move, "Lady Nature said not to speak too much!" chided another voice. "The prince!" the voices began stepping over each other once again, but this time, they weren't coming in a jumbled wave, but he could hear them all at once. "Sir Hunter," a voice cut through the rest. It bid him to fall to its attention. He looked up, watching her across the lake and yet she didn't speak.

"...You are...the Nymph in this forest?" the Hunter felt strange, his throat coarse and his voice foreign to him.

"I am called many things, and so are you," she paused, "There are two entities that this forest requires. Two beings that keep the harmony. The spirit of the forest and the guardian. The beast that you shot a little more than two month ago was the Guardian of this forest. You have been chosen to take his place."

"By whom?!" he was growing angered by her idiotic story.

Her lips pressed into a thin line, "That I know not. There has been plenty a time that I have asked that myself." Then silence fell upon the forest as he shook his head, his eyes searching for an answer. Anger filled him at this destiny shaped for him. He directed his gaze at her, accusation, anger, hatred-- "Had I not stabbed you, the dying would have been more excruciating. It is not me who chooses the guardian."