If You Go Into The Woods

 

if-you-go-into-the-woods

It is a beautiful late afternoon as you open the front gate and step out onto the path. Birdsong fills the air and you can feel the warmth of the golden sun that hangs in an azure sky embracing your shoulders and neck. Flowers grow about your feet, nestling at the side of the path marking the route onwards, a colourful guide so that you can readily view the way ahead. You adjust the basket that hangs in the crook of your arm, a basket that is stuffed with delicious fayre, forbidden fruits and other enticing goodies that are meant for another. You smile and begin walking, a spring in your step as you hear a voice call out from behind you,

“Stay on the path, do not stray from the path.”

You smile again at this warning. You know all about not straying from the path, it is all you have been told for some time. The warnings and the cautionary tales about what happens when you stray from the path began as frightening tales told before bed time but their foreboding content has lessened as you have blossomed. You still smiled politely as older heads than yours warned you about what lay in the forest beyond the path, of waiting predators that are red of tooth and claw. These once dreaded fables are no more than an opportunity for you to curry favour as you kneel next to the wise one and listen, showing attentiveness, but your mind has drifted elsewhere. Your thoughts dwell on whether those supposed savages do exist deep within the darkness of the forest or whether they are just lost souls, poor fellows abandoned by the world who lurk amidst the shadows of tree and bush, not because they seek to do harm but because they have been shunned and know no other way of behaving. You contemplate whether if they were shown love, caring and affection that these wild folk might just be welcomed back and then be able to prove they are not the threat that they are always held out to be.

The tales from those older and more experienced had less of an effect on your reasoning and this soon gave way to listening to the stories from your peers. One of your friends swore she saw one of these supposed savages watching her from a hillock within the forest. She spoke of how he watched her intently with the most mesmerising and piercing eyes which made her feel wanted but in a good way. You all giggled as she recounted this tale, a flush of desire making its way up her chest and neck. Another of your group recollected of how she also saw one of these apparent beasts. He was gathering firewood and she stopped to watch his lithe and frankly alluring figure as he stooped amongst the foliage, gathering logs. She smiled as she told how he turned and caught her watching, but she felt no alarm as he too fixed her with a most penetrating look and then slowly ran his tongue across his lower lip. Your friend places her hand to her mouth and confesses to ‘that’ warm feeling down below as he continued to regard her. You admit you felt a pang of jealousy as the gathering desires of womanhood began to flow through your blossoming body and you longed for your own encounter with one of these mysterious forest dwellers.

You skip along the meandering path as you recall these stories and others, wondering how much is truth and how much is just the product of an over-active imagination. You like to think it is the former and with that in mind you chose your best dress and stole a little of your elder sister’s make-up, carefully applying the blood red concoction of beeswax and crushed bright red berries to your lips as you formed a cupid’s bow wondering if he too waited amongst the trees ready to fire one of his love arrows through your heart. You shrugged off the disapproving look from your father as you explained your appearance was such to look your best for your grandmother. The small smile that your mother gave you as she handed you the laden basket told you she knew otherwise.

Some time into your journey through the forest the flowers become less as the amount of light which percolates through the canopy above becomes reduced. The trees are numerous, stretching up high into the sky and occasionally you stop and look up towards the tree tops, feeling dizzy as you do so. A breeze gathers and the trees sway a little as the eddies of wind disturb the bushes that grow besides the path. You can still see the way ahead but it is not as a pretty now, but you are not concerned, you have walked this path so many times before. Admittedly, that was with your parents or later with your elder sister and now this is the first time you have been allowed to venture out into the vast forest yourself, hence the warnings to stay on the path.

You scurry along, almost tripping on a long thorny vine which has grown across the path. The route through the forest is less distinct now, the moss and wild grass obscuring it in places, the bushes encroaching on to it but you press on regardless. You feel the first splash of rain land on your nose and then another. You halt and set the basket down so you can lift your hood about your head and keep your carefully pinned hair dry. You stoop and collect the basket once again, moving neatly and efficiently in the manner that you have been taught, bending at the knees and straightening carefully. You are about to continue your walk when you hear a noise, a strange guttural sound which seems to come from nowhere and everywhere. You cock your head but do not hear it again as you step forward and resume your journey.

The noise comes again and you spin around before letting out a gasp. There is a man stood right behind you on the path, tall and handsome and your surprise immediately gives way to round-eyed admiration at this elegantly dressed stranger clad in emerald green. He lifts his hat and gives an exaggerated bow. His gaze returns to you, a pair of dark, dark eyes which seem to bore right into you but you can help but stare at the glinting and mesmerising pupils.

“Good day young lady,” he says with a deep and rich voice which makes you feel strange inside but in a good way, “what are you doing alone in the forest on the cusp of evening?”

“I am going for a walk, to my grand mother’s house,” you answer firmly and stand as tall as you can.

“Alone?” he asks again.

“Yes. What of it?” you ask as those glittering eyes dart left and right.

“Oh nothing save that a young lady so pretty as you should not be left unaccompanied.”

“I know the way,” you answer.

“Perhaps you do but the way knows you better,” he answers and smiles showing a toothy grin.

“My what a lot of teeth you have,” you cannot help but remark.

“Yes, all the better to eat the beasts of the forest with,” he answers.

“You eat the animals in the forest?”

“Of course, how else am I to survive, anything that comes through this forest belongs to us.”

“Us? There are more of you?”

“Indeed, this forest is ours, it is our hunting ground.”

“So the stories are true then,” you declare in a tone that is a mixture of wariness and delight.

“Very true.”

“So where did you spring from, how did you know I was here?” you ask as your eyes never leave this handsome and beguiling stranger.

“Oh nearby, but it was not difficult to miss you,” he says and reaches out a hand to touch your blood red and vibrantly coloured cloak.

“This made you stand out from everything else,” he adds.

“My grandmother made it, she told me she chose red because it is the colour of danger, a warning if you will,” you reply.

“So it is and such an attractive shade of red if I may say so, so recognisable and obvious.”

“Recognisable as what?” you ask.

“Oh that does not matter,” he says quickly, “may I escort you ? I know a short cut to your grandmother’s house, just through here,” He proffers his arm as he points through the trees. You peer into the gloom and then look back at him. You pause for a moment but that gaze of his, those eyes which seem to promise so much of that which you want to experience draw you in and you have to, you want to obey.

“Of course, that is most kind of you, ” you say politely. He nods and he stands by your side as you begin to walk. You look ahead and fail to see the red glow around those dark eyes and the especially long tongue which has slid from his mouth and run across the top of all those now sharp, white teeth. He begins to talk as he steers you towards the trees and off the beaten path…..

 if-you-go-into-the-woods

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54 thoughts on “If You Go Into The Woods”

  1. Haha…Re:
    😅
    “I walked off and called an IPSS to meet me elsewhere once Will claimed the seat at the head of the table”

    I know its not really funny at all but the reply was so dry I must admit I enjoyed it.

  2. Hi YouAreTheOne.MarryMe .
    Perhaps if you “pop” the question to Mr Tudor, after all how could he resist ? ;-D

    1. Hi Phoenix. Oh no, I could not do that. I’m old fashioned, and Mr. Tudor has a running tally on the number of proposals he receives. I will get him to propose to me eventually. Yet being a stubborn man, he needs to think this is all his brilliant idea. So I will have to play the part of the innocent bystander.

      1. Hi Love 😀 haha, you’re awesome.
        Yes old fashioned is the best way 😉 A lady deserves the very best. Mr Tudor will propose to you in all in good time. I can see it now… 12 dozen roses and a ring the size of Texas and then give the night of a lifetime on the honeymoon with whips and fluffy handcuffs 😀 ( As soon as he has the brilliant idea of course ;-D Perhaps if we drop a few *hints here and there, he might get his own idea faster 😉 😀

      2. Hi Love… hheh lol <3 ahh, but remember, it's not the size that counts 😉 hehe. He can treasure you for all eternity and every morning make you Bacon and eggs for breakfast, cuddle you like a Teddy bear and leave you poetry on the table to remind you of how wonderful you are 😀

      3. Love, i had a dream a few nights ago, probably triggered by your new name here. Supposedly HG was asked to choose who he would marry from his readers on the blog. His first choice was you, Love! His 2nd choice was Bloody Elemental, 3rd choice i don’t remember, and 4th choice was me PANA aka PTSD. I woke up in a sweat, feeling sad that i was choice #4.
        HG, how can i make it up on the list? I can give you much fuel. I will start now.
        You are intelligent, brilliant, creative, artistic, articulate, well spoken, efficient, dedicated, determined, hard working, successful, self-aware, witty, charming, polite…
        And your voice… oh that voice is-pleasant, captivating, seductive, sexy…
        Not to mention I’m borderline. My strong emotions fluctuate quickly. You would get the contrast in emotions you desire without having to expend too much energy. As you say, you like to preserve your energy.
        Would that be enough fuel to be moved up on the list dear G?

      4. Lol PTSD, that is a funny dream. I’m sure you would be his #1 pick in real life.
        I actually woke up from a narc dream tonight and don’t want to go back to sleep.

      1. Right as always Mr. Tudor. Let’s say you and I were on a double date with another couple (Mary and Will). There are 4 seats. Will has to sit at the head of the table, then its me, then Mary, then you. Oops, I forgot the order. Can you please name us off starting with Will?
        Please refer to yourself as “Me” and refer to me as “You”.

      2. Oh no, I forgot to mention that your seat is actually a throne and it is the best seat in the house. We save the best for last. Because you are #1!
        Now, please name us off starting with Will.

  3. Beautifully written, I wanted the story to continue. But don’t we all.
    **covering myself in the hood of deep blue wisdom and foresight as I walk a different path stealthily**

  4. This is my favourite of your Narc Tales, and I enjoyed listening to it on YT 🙂

    Yes, the allure is so strong, electrifying and all-embracing: the first wolf she meets will devour her. By the time the next one crosses her path, she hopefully will have learnt her lesson.

  5. I was raised by wolves. My grandmother would have been very pleased that I bring such a gallant and good looking wolf to her house. She would have offered him a drink, flirted in a cute way with him and told him all sorts of embarrassing things about me. Then she would have invited him for dinner and if he had finished all that she served on his plate (at least twice) and showed good table manners, then he was a wolf to keep. Then she would look at me like saying “You do not deserve him”.

    1. @Lou
      “She would have … told him all sorts of embarrassing things about me.”
      My mother used to do that too. And one of my aunts saw me as her rival, although she was more than 25 years older than me. Maybe your grandmother’s jealousy made her forget how old she actually was.

      1. Hi E.B.
        Yes, my mother used to do it too but with more malice than my grandmother as she knew much better what my sensitive points were. She would do it in a very subtle and efficient way. I think she was often jealous of me, and still is. But she is jealous of many things.
        My grandmother always wanted to be the center of attention (most members of my family do) and that would make her act like a teenager, especially when there were outsiders around. She needed to “conquer” them, to have their admiration or acknowledgement. And it worked! People liked both my mom and grandmother and would often make comments about how funny and charming they were. 🙄
        I also had a aunt who was jealous of me for a while. We are a family of very hungry egos. This world is full of very hungry egos, I believe.

  6. As always, beautifully expressed.

    Incidentally, I once strolled through the woods in summer wearing a bright red shirt with capped sleeves. A man dressed in a collared shirt and khaki pants dragged me off the path. Lucky for me, I was strong enough to escape serious harm.

  7. Story of my life yet this one of my favorites HG. My woods have a “wolf ” every now and then lurking in the shadows. Night walks are now out of the question and I am starting to feel as if I am caged.

    Maybe this is his intentions

  8. Mr. Tudor, i am curious to know whether it is just emphatic traits that makes you pick a target or beauty too is of importance.

    1. Physical attractiveness is important to me as well, but not all of our kind. See Sitting Target for more in respect of what attracts our kind to targets.

  9. Ahh, so familiar, I know this scenario well.
    When the savior turns out to be Satan.

    Your writings are cleverly imaginative and manifest amazing creativity.
    You are very gifted! 😊

  10. Lovely. No more wearing the deep blood red cape into the woods.
    But I think I will get one for the Medieval Festival this summer in Sweden.

    1. AH OH lol!!
      In fact, there is a forest near my home. I take a walk there every evening wearing a red cape, even though it’s winter. Funny i’ve not seen you there in your blood red cape. I never thought it could be dangerous though! Hope to bump into you next time!

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