The Wild Children
By Kateen
There are many like me, wild children, we're called by the big men who come hunting in our forest. They don't like us; we're too different. They came through and tried to catch us a few moons ago, but nobody was taken. We're too good. If any one was caught, they were rescued before the big men even realized that they'd caught them. We fight like the devil incarnate; everything is allowed – hands, feet, teeth, other items you can find, and, of course, your powers. The fighting is what made me something of the leader for the whole group; I fight the best, and I have the strongest powers.
Probably more important than that, however, is who I am… I don't know. Hell, I don't think I've ever heard my name – but I know that it's hidden in the depths of my memory, I just have to find it first. Something'll trigger it one day, but not for a while – probably not for years. I'm 196 new-moons (sixteen years) old. I live with the other wild children in the forest; those who were hit by the big people, have no family and don't like the houses for children like them, and, of course, those who ran away – like me. Being all powerful among the wild children is nice, but I don't want to do it forever, and I won't. Being a wild child is not who I am, nor is it my life – something tells me that I have other places to go and other people to meet. One day, I might be taken away from here; but they'd have to find me first.
The forest we live in, has many names… the animals call it – Samud (home of all) – and the plants whisper of it as Wilderness. The big men call it the Dark Forest, and the people in black dresses say it's the Forbidden Forest. We, the wild children, call it home. There are hundreds, and thousands, of different animals and plants throughout the forest. Some of them are dangerous, but the day one gets me, is the day I'm dead or Hell Freezes Over. All of the wild children are good at negotiating with the animals, and talking to the plants. We don't speak human to each other, but the languages of the forest. We talk in our minds, we talk with pictures, we talk through plants and animals.
A brown, barn owl dropped a heavy piece of bark on my lap one morning many moons ago, but none of us could read it. So I took it back to where it had come from. Our forest is right in front of a big castle, which is full of little people for ten moons and then empty for two. I took the piece of bark up to the door, and went inside. When I got to the big Room, it was empty – so I put the letter on the big seat at the table on the other end.
One of the other Wild Children said we should watch the other little people – maybe one day we'd be like them – but I said we shouldn't because maybe then they would leave us alone and stop trying to hunt us. We all agreed, so… no more spying on the little people in the big castle. Instead we only spy on those who come into the Samud because that's allowed.
There was one man, a bigger man, who often came into the Samud to talk to the eight-legs. He was kind-hearted, but blind. He never saw us. A few moons ago, he stopped coming. Now his dog is brought with the wise-man, white-hair and his friends.
Wise-man white hair often came into the forest now. I can only remember one other time that he came in before the big man stopped coming. He was old, but young at heart and walked with confidence in his step. Now the wise man is feeble and is often led by a dark, sallow looking man with a frown imprinted on his face. The wise man sees and hears us, but can not find us. We are not a secret, we are just private.
But the wise-man is not the only one who visits the forest. There is also the werewolf and the dog man. Both come only once a month. The werewolf is a wild child at heart, and often strays far from the dog man and needs much help after his transformation. This last time, however, I realized there would be a problem as I was creeping up to him.
He was awake.
I kept moving towards him, crouched low to the ground, my long legs spindling out on either side of me. I had a sapling full of fresh water for him, and a selection of berries and herbs to heal his wounds all contained in a tight fist, held close to my chest. He smiled wearily at me, his head slumped heavily on a scarred arm. I try to smile reassuringly, but instead continue towards him and pull his hair out of his face.
"wa- water?" I ask tentatively, holding the sapling out, unsure if I have the right words – it has, after all, been many moons since I last spoke human.
He nods, "please," he grunts.
I roll him over slightly and pour it down his throat, tickling his adam's apple to make him swallow it. He smiles benignly, "thank you, child." It is with a faint smile that he then points to himself, "Moony," he says.
"Moony," I grunt, pointing to him, what does he think I am – Stupid?
He then points at me and looks questioning.
"Not know," I shrug, "No name."
"Everyone has a name, child," he says kindly, slowly sitting up.
I shake my head, "Not all. Many children no names have." He doesn't respond, intent as he is on trying to stand. I watch as he slowly pushes himself up a little, with many winces of pain. I watch his movements, "Leg?" I ask, pointing to his leg.
He nods, "I think it's broken," he looks quite exhausted and I take pity on him.
Pointing to myself, "No name help Moony," I say calmly, slightly more confident in my use of the language he spoke after a few sentences, and with a small struggle fix myself as a balance for him to limp along back to the castle and his dog friend.
At the doors to the castle he looks at me, "will you come in?" he asks.
I stare at the doors, maybe it's time I found out what the message was about. I nod slowly, "but no rope no scare!" I say cautiously. He nods, obviously understanding this somehow. I flick my hand and the doors open, and the two of us limp inside, "where?" I ask, looking lost.
"This way," he points to two huge doors at the end of the corridor. I turn and with a shrug, start moving. At the doors I wave my hand again and they swing open. I'm suddenly assaulted by a loud ruckus and realize that there are hundreds of children sitting down, putting strange things into their mouth and all talking in human. I blink, like a deer caught in the headlights, completely lost as to what to do when suddenly I drop 'Moony' and scamper like a frightened rabbit towards the doors we came in the first time, but they wouldn't open this time. Someone was holding their powers on this door.
I glared at it angrily and started to focus my own on opening it. Slowly I began to sense exactly where the other powers were pointed and I built up the pressure around those points but it was about to break free when four other powers that weren't as strong were added. I pushed harder, and two of them dropped out a few minutes later but still there were three there, fighting me.
As someone grasped me in their arms and lifted me off the ground, pulling me away, my connection broke and I sagged back in their arms, not realizing that it was the dog man who was holding me and one of the three powers that had remained was from him. I did, however, notice that the big power came from the wise-man with the white hair who sat in the big, ornate chair that I'd put the message back on, all those months ago.