Tree well

The snow is powdery and fine along the tree line of towering evergreens. It coats the massive trees like heavy wool on sheep. It’s hard for you to imagine this cold place in spring, warm and alive with wildflowers. Twilight comes in degrees, darkening the dome of the sky, turning the trees into silent slumped shapes.

Suddenly, with a surprised yell, Roth vanishes from sight. Snow begins sliding mercilessly into the deep hole he has just created.

“Stand still!” Halpra yells “Tree well!” Quickly, she explains that the heavy snow has piled on top of the wide branches of the tree, concealing a deep pit at the base. The snow is so fine, Roth won’t be able to get a grip and pull himself up. The more he tries to climb out, the more snow will pile in, burying him.

Luckily, Roth has fallen feet first. Otherwise, he would have been knocked unconscious on the thick trunk of the tree. But unfortunately, that’s where his luck ends. The well is very deep, the edges threatening to tumble inwards. Halpra instructs you to slowly back away, so you won’t fall in as well.

Helpless mouse trapped within deep snow near a tree well

“Roth! Can you hear me?” she shouts. Roth’s affirmation filters back. "We need more mice and rope to get you out. Mossden isn't far, and I will send a rescue party back. I'm dropping more food and water to you. You will not be here long."

She does not need to add that Roth is a dangerous place. Night is almost here, a storm is approaching, and a fox might still be on the hunt. Halpra gives a glance at the sky, which is ominous with the approaching storm. Then she moves forward, gesturing you to follow. You pause, then reach into your jacket pocket and remove your sprig of lucky rosemary.

“Roth?” you call.

“Yes?” his muffled voice replies.

“Can I give you something?”

“Of course,” he says, sounding puzzled.

Carefully, you toss the sprig of rosemary into the tree well. There is a moment of silence, then Roth’s voice floats up again.

“Thank you, my friend. Thank you for this. I’ll see you soon.” he says, his voice trembling slightly.

You say goodbye and you leave Roth, holding the sprig of rosemary, at the bottom of the tree well.

CONTINUE

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