Words from the Whispering Woods Cislyn Smith
A curl of bark, stained meticulously with sap
We listened and watched, root and leaf and stem and bark, and learned the marks and the sounds. We are neighbors. The witch says you are too new to be trusted, but we like the way your sprouts laugh and run, like large squirrels. Welcome. We hope we will be friends.
* * *
Leaves carefully scattered across a concussed woodsman
Do not cut our sprouts or our elders. That hurts. There is plenty of wood for the burning. It falls. Some of us are ready to go, and will make ourselves known to you.
* * *
Dried mud on a fallen log
Thank you for the fertilizer. The soil is enriched by your gift. Please do not put any more of it into the river water or streams. That is bad for the fish.
* * *
A long branch etched with beetle marks, carried by a child
These sprouts wandered far from your grove. We have returned them to you so they can grow properly. Hungry things stalk the cold and dark. Do not let your little ones stray.
* * *
Another branch etched with beetle marks, carried by a child
The sprouts were once again far from your grove. Do you require more communication than this? The cold and dark is dangerous.
* * *
Five long branches etched with beetle marks, carried by a group of children
The sprouts say that you do not believe we speak to them. We speak. Perhaps you have grown past hearing. Are you also unable to heed the words we make for your eyes, since only sprout ears are hearing us? These sprouts were far from your grove, lost. We made paths for them. Be good to your sprouts. The cold and dark will not last forever, but it is dangerous now.
* * *
A parchment, delivered by raven
The woods warned you but you did not listen. I warned the woods, but they did not listen. So it goes. Your children have made their way, hungry bellies and greedy hands, to my house. Now they are mine. This land is full of bounty, and there is no need for any to go hungry, even in winter. The squirrels manage. The trees manage. And so do I, despite all your hungry little children. Plan better, or lose more.
* * *
Stained birch bark, wrapped tightly around three unconscious men
Do not come into our home with fire, with cutting, with noise. You want your sprouts? They do not want you. You sent them into the dark again and again. They are with the witch, learning, listening, laughing and running like squirrels again. Some of you have asked, but we will not show you the way. The witch does not like neighbors. We begin to understand why. We will not make the paths for you.
* * *
Sticks, dropped in formation by swooping cardinals
No means no. Stop.
* * *
Entwined thorns, forming a wall and words
Of course the witch isn’t eating them. Sprouts are not good for eating! Do you eat your sprouts? Have you tried berries? Or fish? There are fish in the river. Birds. Grubs. There are many things. We are trying to help you. Stop trying to find the witch.
* * *
Blossoms in the thorn wall
Now you say the witch is keeping food from you. She does not want to share. We are trying to share, but you insist on carving paths that are not for you. We have told you where to find food, and the dark times are nearly over. Dawn comes sooner and sooner. Your sprouts grow. You did not want them. You sent them on the wind, seeds to find ground. They have.
* * *
A parchment, delivered by owl
The trees say that you want us to come home. Why would we do that? The witch says we have to write to you so you will stop hiring idiots with axes and harassing the trees. So here is a letter. Stop doing that. I am going to have a tasty mushroom house grown right from the ground when I am a witch. I always liked mushrooms.
* * *
Blossoms in the thorn wall
We learned to speak. When will you learn to listen?
* * *
Acorns in an empty field, carefully arranged
We listened and watched, root and leaf and stem and bark, and we have decided. We do not like being your neighbors. Thank you for the sprouts – they are good new witches. We are going now. Our witches have made arrangements for us elsewhere. Be careful in the cold and dark. With luck you may survive. Good bye.
PATREON EXCLUSIVE: INTERVIEW WITH AUTHOR CISLYN SMITH
FFO: What is the story behind your story?
CS: I was participating in a forum-based contest to write a story in a weekend, and one of the suggested prompts for that round was to use a generator for random fantasy inn rumors as inspiration. The rumor the generator gave me was, “The trees of The Withered Woods have gained sentience and speech.” That made me think about enchanted forests and fairy tales, and wonder what the trees would have to say about the stories that take place within their bounds, about witches and wicked parents and children that get lost under their branches. This story fell out of all of that.
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