... in the shadows of the fall woods.

Prologue



         A young man lay at the end of a winding forest path. The many s-curves of the trail were covered with a fresh layer of dead and drying leaves. A small breeze whispered through the curtain of leafless branches that looked like a spider web in the air. The remnants of a fall storm were passing, leaving thick grey clouds hanging low over the forest. Light drizzle was coming down, not from the clouds above, but from the branches, and from the few remaining leaves still connected. A woman lay a few feet away from the man, off to the side of the path which he had created over the last couple months. In contrast to the man, who was restlessly writhing in a dream plagued sleep, she lay as still as the orange and yellow blanket of leaves that partially covered her. At the end of the trail stands a massive tree reaching at least three hundred feet into the air, tickling the bottom of the clouds that cut off the moonlight above. A large black crow sits alone near the top, perched on the thickest branch it could find. The wide wings of the bird fluttered as it dug its beak underneath and straightened out a stray feather. The crow had watched the pair of humans walk up the path, planning the whole time, hoping they might drop something edible. It remembered one of them being on the path before, occasionally bringing food that the crow had taken for itself while the man was distracted or unconscious, which had happened a few times. Small white lights lined the path on both the left and right, leading back from the tree about thirty yards back, powered by a quiet generator hidden behind a downed tree trunk to the right of the tree at the end of the trail. The generator also powered a small boom box that was still playing a three hour mix of sounds that the crow didn't recognize. The music ended as the crow landed ten or so feet down the path from the unconscious couple.. It had spied something from above in the man's grasp that looked like food. As it walked its way slowly past the now flickering lights lining the way to the tree ahead, the crow's eyes stayed steady on the writhing man, always aware of possible peril, but also aware that the way the man was moving was quite similar to that of a dying animal. In the fall months the shadowy black bird had to become a more of a scavenger than usual in these woods in order to survive, so any chance it had to find food would have to be taken. The flickering of the dim white lights grew more consistent as the bird approached the twitchy man's temporary forest bed, sometimes staying out for three seconds at a time. Only two sounds were audible in the forest, the pattering of light water droplets on the leaf blanket and the whispering of the breeze above. If the crow could understand human language it might have heard words being whispered by the wind. If it understood the concept of music, it may have also heard the rhythmic beauty of the raindrops. However, the only thing in the crow's mind was the contents of the hand which upon closer look was definitely edible. The breeze picked up strength and became a strong wind once more, forcing the last lingering leaves to abandon their relationship with the trees and fall to the ground. The whispering in the air became a hissing, much like that of a defensive snake warding off all adversaries. Suddenly a spark shot up from the ground, nineteen feet to the left of the approaching bird, accompanied by a metallic clunk causing the wary crow to leave its hopeful dinner. The lighted path fell dark. The clouds above began to dissipate, slowly allowing the glare of a quarter full moon shine down upon the scene at the base of a giant oak tree. Shadows from the branches concealed the crow's flight path as it flew away to find a safer food source, knowing only that this place was no longer a good place to be.