“I could tell you how I ended up here!” It was a gamble, sure. Even if you didn’t think your plight was all that dramatic, maybe you’d have a chance if you dressed it up a little…
Tying her headscarf, Maleva sighed. “The oral tradition?” Moving in glowing wisps of tulle, she sat down perpendicular to you, her posture mirroring your own. She smiled. “Alright then. I accept your conditions.”
So, under flickering lamplight, you dramatized your dumb little story about your car, and the crappy weather, and all the peculiar characters you found yourself interacting with, all while occasionally sneaking glances to make sure you hadn’t lost that glimmer of attention in her eyes.
Once you reached your dramatic conclusion that brought you to the camp, there was a dense pause in the air, as if your story was being cross examined for evidence- understandably, as you did crib in a couple falsehoods. You opened your mouth to ask what she thought. “Yes, yes- it was fine,” She said, standing up abruptly. “But the moon is rising.” Tossing on a scraggly shawl, she gestured to you.
“You came in on a terrible night, traveler.”
The menacing undertone of her words pulled you to stay close as you traveled, just short of holding Maleva’s hand as she showed you through a clearing in the forest- the Dark Forest, which if you knew why it was called that, you wouldn't so eagerly venture along with her. But you trusted Maleva’s guide, and trust is a very precious thing.
The entire hike, the two of you had been silent, as if you were stalking some great beast. Or it was stalking you. When a rustle came from a far off bush. you saw her grip of rings tighten around something that sparkled. “Is- is that a knife?”
Maleva palmed something cold and metal into your hand. “Shh…” Curiously, you held the thing up, silhouetted by the moonlight. It was a pentagram on a chain, likely to be worn over one’s heart. “Protects against werewolves,” she explained.
“But- that’s a superstition!”
Her voice lowered as she uttered her words, as slow as dripping candle wax. “The superstition of yesterday can very well become the reality of today.”
Cutting through the stillness of the night, a howl arose that couldn't have been the wind! Even if you mind hadn't put the pieces together, you could feel it in the hairs that stood up on the back of your neck- that fight or flight response of blood rushing towards your extremities.
This was some biological fear. You felt Maleva’s hand on your back as if she were urging you away from some danger.
So you ran.
Tearing off through the forest, a pair of foot beats trailed behind you. That's when you made the contention with her warning. But there was no way you were being chased by some fantastical wolf creature. It was her steps.
Lungs burning, heart racing, you sprinted as fast as your body could carry you to the edge of the woods!
Shoving away one final limb, you stood poised on the shaky perimeter of the darkness. Looking up to that great glowing sun of a gas station in the distance, you let out a weak shudder. You made it. You were okay.
And when you turned to thank Maleva, for guiding you, for saving your life- you stood alone.