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Strange Things Come From The Woods

By @VaticanCameos


Reynard was a riddle with red hair and a soft voice. He’d wandered out of the woods ages ago, as did most strange things. And Reynard was no exception. At first glance, he seemed normal enough for someone who’d come from the forest. Curly hair in messy braids he’d likely done himself. Eyes that shimmered with silver when he was telling a story.

Reynard was odd it seemed, in other ways. Leaving for the forest at sunset, returning to town long before dawn. Ask him about it and he only laughs. He said that his brothers would miss him, if he didn’t visit. Yet he came here alone. He came in midwinter. Anyone in those woods would’ve froze to death long ago.

He spoke about his mysterious brothers often. Though he was stubborn in refusing to share their names. I refused to believe they were blood relatives, he spoke too kindly of them for the three to be related.

I’d followed him once, found him an hour later next to a campfire. He smiled when he saw me, sitting there like he’d been waiting for me all along. “Took you long enough. I was worried I’d have to fish you out of a river.” That was the last time I followed him into the woods.

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