A Baby in the Woods

Night fell swiftly over the woods, casting down shadows. The wind stirred the branches. And distant flashes of lightning illuminated the sky, warning about the approaching storm.

An old villager hurriedly walked down a trail home. His stooped posture and shaky limbs spoke of his old age and nervousness at getting caught outside the village so late in the day.

A loud roll of thunder startled the villager. Stumbling, he lost his footing and fell, just as a tremendous flash of lightning struck almost directly above him. Again and again, the lightning streaked through darkening sky and the very ground seemed to shake, making the old villager curl up in fear, his hands protectively clasping his bald head.

Finally, the thunder quieted. The elderly villager waited a bit, before peeking through his fingers. Seeing only the furry ever-greens and thick bushes surround him, the villager dared to lift his head. And that's when he heard it, a small little cry coming from somewhere to his left a little away from the trail. It sounded like a baby. But what could a baby be doing this far out in the woods?

Hesitantly, the villager rose to his feet and looked in that direction, debating with himself. Shaking his head, he cautiously stepped off the trail into the woods.

A little later, grumbling under his nose about his own foolishness, he struggled through the last barrier of thick foliage and stepped over some thick roots into a clearing where a momentous oak rose high into the sky. Gusts of wind sent waves across the tall grass.

Blinking with astonishment, the old villager held his watery green eyes on that tree. He tried to think back, but could not recall ever seeing this tree before. And he could not have not noticed it before, so tall and mighty, rising a good measure above the rest, which seemed to have drawn away from this giant to give it ample space.

The small cry repeated, distracted the villager from the tree and drew his puzzled gaze to its roots. It was from there that the sound came from.

The villager shuffled forward, stepping cautiously through the tall, thick grass and hoping not to come across any dangerous creature that might be lurking there. But all was quiet. Strangely so. Even the air itself seemed eerily still, as the villager approached the tree and stopped, looking down in confusion.

There, nestled between the dark roots was a small white bundle. Something moved beneath the crumpled cloth. Moonlight, breaking through the roiling clouds, briefly cast wandering beams, one of which fell and rested briefly upon the smooth, flowing cloth, illuminating a strange curved symbol embroidered in glimmering silver.

The villager bent and gently pulled away the edge of the cloth to peek within and froze, gazing at what looked like a small baby hidden within. What surprised and worried the old villager was not so much that it was a baby. He was kind of expecting to find it as the source of the crying.

What surprised the old villager was that it was not a child of his race, common to live in these parts, but seemingly a Human child, its small face scrunched up and grimacing as it expressed to the world its discontent, its eyes tightly squeezed shut and its face glistening wet as if drops of rain had already fallen and trailed down the child's small cheeks.

A human baby left all alone in the middle of the woods? As far as the villager knew, humans were not that cruel, even though he did hear some rather scary stories. He didn't even know for sure if this child was Human. Just assumed that it might be, because of the fluffy brown fuzz visible on its head, the tiny button nose, and from the general shape of its body, just as he had seen Humans have in the pictures. The nearest town of Humans that the villager knew of lay months away through dangerous, wild forests and glades filled with hostile things.

And what was he going to do with it now that he found it? Take it back with him to the village? Take it to the elders? Somehow, the old villager doubted that they would be pleased. He, himself, strongly disliked the feeling he had about all this. The uncertainty and just... This fell far, far from the routines he was used to.

The little baby opened its toothless mouth and made another cry, inconsolable, its little chin shaking in distress, more drops of water squeezing out and leaking from the corners of its shut eyes. It didn't know any better why it was here, all lost and alone. With an instinctive gesture, the old villager reached down and carefully lifted the human child. Gently pressing it close against his chest, he made a hushing sound.

Immediately, the child quieted, its face relaxing. And the villager smiled, unwillingly thinking back to the time when he held his children and then grandchildren just like this, long ago. They were all grown up now.

"Hush, little one. Hush... And what am I going to do with you?" The villager grumbled and startled, when the baby blinked open its eyes and looked at him. A faint silvery light illuminated the old villager's face, then vanished, when the child's eyes closed once more. Comforted by the warmth, the child yawned wide with its toothless gums showing, its expression unsuspecting and trusting, as only a little baby might have.

"Do Humans have eyes like these?" The old villager asked himself, puzzled. And shrugged, not sure. He couldn't quite remember.

"I suppose the elders might know..." The villager muttered, a slight frown appearing on his face.

A distant wolf howl interrupted the villager's musing and he tensely looked around himself at the foreboding dark forest. He needed to get back to the village. What was he doing standing around and asking questions?

Taking one more look at the strange child's face, the old villager couldn't help a small smile at the contentment he saw settling in the child's features. This Human child liked being held, just as the little Villager children.

"Well, look at that. You're not scared at all, little one.... Even though you should be. I know I am..." The old villager murmured. Gently, he tucked the strange white cloth around the child, unwillingly fingering the soft, fine material and marveling at the skill of whoever made such a thing. He didn't even know what it was made of that it almost appeared to glow softly under the appearing and disappearing moonlight.

In the distance, another roll of thunder came rumbling across.

With a brief look around himself at the shadowy forest, the branches that waved in the picking up breeze, the villager pressed the baby closer to his chest and hurried to retrace his steps out of the clearance. Walking back toward the trail, the villager cautiously glanced at the shadows slipping around him and stifled a shiver.

"Quite the little hero, aren't you?" He said softly to the quiet child. "Well, I'm not a hero. But I will do the right thing. So you are coming along with me, little fella. Let my neighbors grumble. I don't care... I'm not leaving you behind... I will keep you safe until your parents come back... Hopefully they will come back... Unless they cannot?... I hope it was not them, who left you out here all alone... Because who would do such a thing to a baby?... Hmmm. I don't think they did... Your parents didn't leave you. Something else must have happened... Hmmm."

A pair of glowing red eyes opened in the formless foliage and then another, and another. The old villager gasped, briefly pausing step. Then, he walked faster, holding the child close to him with shaking, tired hands, and trying to ignore the dark forms shifting silently in the shadows, watching eerily as he fled.

"I'm just imagining it. I'm just imagining it." The old villager began repeating to himself and perked up when he saw the trail up ahead. And gasped, freezing once more, as something blurred and a tall, spindly form unfolded, blinking its purple eyes.

Terrified, the villager squeezed his eyes shut, faintly shaking, while his heart thumped loudly in his chest. He held his breath, waiting, until he heard the soft warping sound that let him know that the terrifying alien monster had left. Opening his eyes, the villager saw only faint purple particles dissolving in the darkness. Then, he was on the trail and shuffling as fast as his unsteady limbs allowed, this time silently.

The bundle in his arms also remained quiet. Glancing down, the villager saw that the human child was asleep, probably lulled by the motion and completely unaware of the dangers that surrounded him and the one who carried him.

Last few steps carried him from the trail into the bright edge of the torch lights that surrounded the outer perimeter of his home Village. Only there did the villager stop and breathe heavily, catching his breath, before casting back a grateful glance at the retreated darkness.

Too weary to think about anything else but reaching the safety of his house, he shuffled along the village path straight toward the door of his dwelling, ignoring the curious remarks and looks that followed him.

"Grake?" Another villager tried to follow him, only to stop as the elder, clutching a strange bundle to his chest, disappeared into his dwelling and shut the door in his face. A few of the villagers who have not yet gone to bed, peered out of their houses and exchanged curious looks.