FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

The Willow: Story One

It's like a curtain... she thought, her eyes wide and her hand over her mouth. Reaches the ground and everything.

A rhythmic swishing filled the air around her, the sound of soft breezes weaving through the rope-like foliage that dangled from many drooping branches; so many, in fact, that the white, gentle light from the full moon barely percolated through it, and as such, it cast a shadow on the ground that was darker than the surrounding night. These thin strips of wood seemed to flow downward from thick, twisted limbs that exploded from a positively gargantuan (if mostly hidden by the strips of leaves) trunk, which appeared to melt upwards out of the ground. This organic, liquid shape was not restricted to the base of the trunk, either; it carried up the trunk in the form of deep, gently curving furrows that seemed wide and deep enough to hold the largest of people. Around twenty feet up, the sides of these furrows closed in to form an ordinary, round trunk, but that didn't take away from the novelty in the slightest.

The weeping willow that stood before her, despite being shorter than the trees that surrounded it, seemed to exude a presence that dwarfed them all.

For a couple moments, she stood there, and her tail began to swing back and forth in time with the tree's leaves. Their movement seemed to mesmerize her for a moment. If the ocean was made out of leaves, this is what it'd be like. As if to confirm her thought, a larger gust of wind rushed through the area, and the leaves rose and fell in one, wave-like motion.

She didn't know when she started to move towards the willow, but it seems like no time passed between when she was standing outside the wall of leaves and when she had brushed them aside and stepped forward, moving through the curtain and into the space behind. She found herself within a dark, thin space, one in which the sounds of the outside world were muffled and mixed with that of the creaking and rustling of the tree. Chills rushed through her, and she shivered slightly. This doesn't feel real.

Gently, she extended her arm out in front of her, and she began to step forward. After a few moments, her paw pads struck rough bark, and she stepped forward, wincing slightly. When she reached the trunk, she began to move around it, searching for the hollow she had just barely seen from outside the curtain.

It only took her a moment. She stumbled forward at first, unprepared for her support to vanish without warning, but didn't fall. That was stupid. A pang of annoyance ran through her, but it was quickly replaced with mirth. Someone left a STOOL here!

To her surprise, the bark behind the stool had been worn smooth, providing a comfortable, easy place to rest her back. She turned around to sit down, and a mat of leaves brushed her arm. She jumped. Upon further inspection, another burst of amusement soothed the surprise. I said it was like a curtain... I just didn't expect someone to actually weave one from the leaves. She looked up. Guess it makes sense, though. This thing is supposed to be secret. She pulled the curtain in front of her, and caught a final, dim glimpse of the space in front of the furrow.

Leaning back, she waited.

In time, moments blurred into minutes, and minutes into moments once more, leaving the concept of time itself a messy, irregular flow. The only indicators that time had passed at all were the rustling of the leaves and the small changes in brightness that clouds passing over the moon brought. Perhaps some would be bothered by this, but to her, it didn't matter. It really wasn't so different from waiting for a package to be delivered, or from waiting for housemates to come home. The differences were in the setting and general time of day, and, of course, what she was waiting for.

She didn't really know, to be quite honest. Her journey to the tree was based on a whim, and so was the amount of time she spent there. In fact, she expected to be waiting for absolutely nothing, depending on chance. Either way, she felt that the waiting was time well spent, even though she didn't know how much she had actually spent. It was monotonous, yes, but it was also stable; stability was not often found within her day.

A wise person once said that the sun blazes with the fires of impulse, developing spots and spitting fire without warning. In contrast, the moon is a simple sphere of stone, one which does not even rotate in the eyes of an observer; the essence of stability. She believed this wholeheartedly, and as such, felt that even if she was waiting for nothing, she'd still gain something out of it.

And so, she waited.

Her ears began to filter out the background noise of the world, and soon, the only thing she could hear was the sound of her own breathing. For a while, this stayed constant, but it was soon joined by the sound of her heartbeat.

Her pulse seemed to make a peculiar sound, one that sounded like a combination of a plap and a crunch. A planch, if you will.

She found this quite perplexing.

Without warning, her heart skipped a beat, and when it returned, it returned with a vengeance. The sound was sharper, going from a planch to a PLASH (which, of course, is a plap-crash). A muffled, pained hiss made its way through the leaves, followed by a sigh.

"Fuggin' hell," a soft, raspy voice muttered.

Just like that, her ears perked up, and she sat up a little straighter, all thoughts of her heartbeat vanishing from her mind. "Is someone there?"

A gasp. "Holy-" She heard a clearing of a throat. "Yeah, someone's here." The voice paused. "Wow, did I seriously just get lucky?"

Opening her mouth to respond, a confused shiver ran through her body. "What... what do you mean?" she asked.

"Well, I-" The voice broke off. "Oh. Phrasing. Lo siento." Another pause. "I meant... well, this is my first time coming out to the willow, y'know? Mi tiempo primero. I wasn't really expecting someone else to... y'know, be here."

"Ah," she said, a laugh bubbling up from within her chest. "It's actually my first time here too." She leaned back. "Crazy, huh?"

"That's kinda cool," the voice mumbled. "Uh... this conversation is supposed to be anonymous, right? Isn't that the whole point of the willow; you can come and talk stuff out to someone who won't know who you are?"

"Yeah," she responded, "why do you ask?"

"Which side of the tree are you on?" The voice paused. "If this is anonymous, I don't wanna... y'know, see you."

"Ah." She smiled. "I don't think it matters, to be honest. Someone took some of the branches and wove them together into a sort of privacy screen." A thought popped into her head, and she giggled. "Besides, it's dark. You wouldn't be able to see me anyway."

"Nah, I prolly could. But the privacy screen thing is hella cool," the voice said, the sound of branches being pushed aside overlapping their words. "Oh, I can see that," they said, their voice significantly less muffled. "That's actually really creative... and well made. It's woven really good."

"I'll have to take your word for it," she responded. "I can't see it."

"I figured."

Light footsteps made their way around the tree, and after a moment, she heard the sound of another privacy screen being drawn closed. Silence filled the air once more, and she sighed, closing her eyes.

"So what brought you out here?" the voice asked.

"I beg your pardon?"

"¿Qué te está comiendo?" A sigh emanated from the other side of the tree. "Everyone's got a reason for coming' out here; they gots something they need to vent about or something that they just need to share. Maybe you need to get something off of your shoulders?"

"Not really," she mumbled, wincing slightly. "I just... curiosity got the better of me. I heard people around town talking about this tree, and from their descriptions... it didn't seem real. Still doesn't entirely feel real."

"Oh." A pause. "Neato."

She shifted in her seat, the rustling of leaves filling the air once more. "What about you?" she asked eventually.

A soft sigh made its way to her ears. "I... well, to be honest, I've been thinking a lot... 'bout myself, y'know?" Another sigh. "That's part of the problem.

"You ever just... I dunno, get in a space where you get trapped in your thoughts? ¿Dónde estás pensando y no puedo parar?" A pause. "It's been happening to me a lot lately. I guess I sorta went through a... revelation of sorts not too long ago? Someone very close to me turned around and... well, they sorta went off on me. Supongo que dije algo malo... Anyways, they told me that they were concerned about... my thoughts? ¿Mis creencias? Cual es el nombre de valores en inglés... MY VALUES!

"I can't really... is recite the word? I can't recite what they said word-for-word, but the general message of what they said is... well, that I had issues. With a lot of things, but primarily with how I interacted with the world. Al parecer, fue demasiado enfocar en me. No les creo al principio. Then... t-they told me they were going to cut off contact conmigo until I... well, until I stopped being..." Another pause. "Lo siento... they told me they didn't want to be in a one-sided relationship... no, that has romantic meaning... one sided f-friendship anymore... that they had tolerated that for too long.

"That's the basics. Their actual phrasing was... quite harsh. Ahora, que había oído cosas como eso antes de, pero... pero no de una persona tan íntima a mi... me lastimó mucho. And because of that... well, I started thinking.

"And you know what? They were completely correct. So correct, in fact, that I noticed my self-centeredness blending into my thoughts... I believed some bad things. Still do, to an extent. All because I wasn't thinking outside my box.

"That's sorta why I'm here. Pagar una deuda no sabía que tenía. I... well, for so long, I've been focused on helping myself, I thought it would be... I thought it'd be fitting to try to help others, people I don't even know. I don't know if I'll actually be helpful, but... it's worth a shot."

For a moment, she was quiet. Eventually, she raised her head. "My apologies," she said. "I... didn't understand a good portion of that. I do think I got the gist of it, though-"

"iMierda!" the voice hissed sharply, and she jumped. "Lo sien- I'm sorry... still focused on myself, I guess. Completely forgot that you... probably don't know spanish."

"It's alright," she responded, a faint smile touching her lips.

"Still shouldn't have done it..." For a moment, there was silence, which was then broken by a sigh. "You said you understood what I was trying to say, though?"

"Mhm."

"Do you have any questions?" the voice asked, embarrassment flowing through it.

"Not at all," she answered. "You switched just enough for me to get context." A giggle rose in her throat. "Besides, it's not like I haven't taken a language class or two."

A small laugh met her ears. "That's fair."

Silence took hold of the area once more, and for a little while, the tranquil hum of night surrounded the two. Crickets chirped. Moonlight flickered. The wind shifted and brought with it the scent of a stream, similar to that of petrichor.

She closed her eyes, shivering slightly.

"What do you know of failure?"

A frog croaked in the distance. "¿Qué?" the voice asked.

She sighed. "Failure... how much experience do you have with it?"

"Not enough."

"Oh." A pang of disappointment ran through her. "Never mind, then."

"No no no no no," the voice responded, hastily stumbling over the syllables. "I... I don't know if I can help, but... I wanna try anyway,"

The conversation stalled once more. A particularly strong gust of wind hit the willow, and the whole world seemed to sway before her eyes. She closed them.

The wind whistled.

Off in the distance, a bird's ghostly cry echoed.

A small, non-sentient animal ran by, the pitter-patter of its tiny paws almost being lost in the rustle of the willow's leaves.

"I'm supposed to be a mentor," she mumbled softly, her head tilting downward.

"Oh?"

"Mhm..." Pausing, she sighed. "I'm supposed to be a guiding influence, someone who can steer people along the right path and give them the skills to succeed. Hell, that's the biggest part of my job." Another pause. "Heh... I didn't really realize that for a while. It was only when I saw what I could do, what an effect I had had on someone that it really hit me. From that moment on, I kept it at the front of my mind, prioritized it above all else, just so I didn't mess things up for someone."

"You..." the voice paused. "That's admirable."

She winced. "Only if you succeed. It's like a coin... there's two sides. And if I fail to have a positive impact..."

"I understand," the voice said. "That sounds like... a lot of pressure."

"It is..." She felt something welling up in her throat, and she sniffled, swallowing painfully. "I just wish I'd realized how much."

Silence.

"What happened?" the voice asked.

"I failed," she muttered, and a pained, twisted smile crossed her face. "I saw someone who was... they weren't just on the wrong path, they were driving themselves towards a cliff... and I failed."

"Mierda..." the voice whispered. "I... this may come off as insensitive, but was it... really as bad as that analogy implies?"

"They started a prison sentence today."

"Puta madre..."

The wind fell still, and it was replaced with the sound of shaky breathing..

"The worst part about it?" She grimaced. "I tried to help. Once I realized what was going on, I pulled them aside, talked to them, begged them to reconsider what they were doing... and they didn't care. They laughed. They laughed. I... I think I may have made it worse... every action has an equal opposite reaction indeed."

"I'm so sorry," the voice whispered.

"Don't be," she responded. "This wasn't your fault. This wasn't your failure."

"I'm still sorry," the voice replied.

She paused for a long while. "Thank you."

"De nada."

The conversation paused, and the crickets filled the space it left behind.

"Do you know why they laughed?" the voice asked.

"Because..." A pause. "I... I don't know. Perhaps my words didn't hold enough weight. Perhaps they thought I was joking. Maybe they just... didn't think what I was saying was accurate... that what they were doing couldn't possibly be that bad." She sighed. "There's a million possible reasons as to why they laughed, but in the end, they still did. The reasons... they don't really matter."

"No, they do," the voice responded, a sliver of confidence resonating within it.

"How?"

"Because... how do I put this into words? Una persona..." The words blurred together into an indecipherable jumble for a moment before abruptly stopping. "Because... good will is a double-sided arrangement.

"Try to think of it this way. A person can try and try and try ayud- sorry, to help somebody else. They can do all sorts of things, research, lectures, interventions, and others, but in the end... well, if the person doesn't want to be helped, or if they think that what's causing the concern in the first place es no una problema, they won't be affected." A pause. "There has to be something on both sides: the willingness to help, and the willingness to be helped. Otherwise... any efforts will fall flat."

Once more, wind's whistle and the forest's song filled the area.

"That... that makes some sense," she eventually responded.

"It should," the voice mumbled. "I would know."

She sighed. "I... I just wish it made me feel less guilty."

"I don't know if it can," the voice responded. "There has to be a willingness in your heart to accept that this wasn't your fault." A pause. "You might never be able to do that, to be honest."

She blinked. "Wise words."

"¿Qué puedo decir?" The voice chuckled. "I've been thinking a lot recently."

She laughed softly. "I should have remembered."

Another bird call sounded. For a moment, time began to blur once more. Wind whistled. Crickets chirped. Moonlight flickered.

"Thank you," the voice whispered. A moment later, the crunch of crushed leaves met her ears, and the sound of footsteps moved around the tree, paused for a moment, and continued.

Once again, she was alone with the sound of her own breathing. For a couple moments, she leaned back, closing her eyes.

She pursed her lips, scrunching up her face ever so slightly.

A moment later, she rose to her feet, stretched her legs, and moved forward, pushing the leaves out of her way and setting foot on the inverse of the path she walked before.

END