Tani raced through the dark wood, her feet barely touching the soft loam. Almost presciently avoiding the breaking of a single twig underfoot and dodging right and left, ducking and weaving to ensure not even the slightest bend or sway of a branch or leaf would betray her passage. There was barely enough light to see when running in the clear. Here, beneath the dense canopy, the darkness was just this side of total. Her night-adapted eyes swelled to take in every scintilla of reflection to guide her direction. Her mind hummed, processing information and decisions at maximum synaptic speed to match her flying legs.
So far there had been no sign of the Pack, and -- she checked her chronotech -- it was still five minutes until the Hunt began their bloodthirsty quest.
Ahead of her, Tani could dimly make out a fork in the forest path. To the right, the path continued unimpeded. The loam packed solid by the animals and traders that used it, the vegetation well cleared. It was a good choice. She would leave no trace. But in that direction the path travelled straight for almost three hundred metres without deviating and without any natural cover. She could be spotted from far behind. She was nearing the fork now. Had to decide. The left-hand route was even closer to total darkness and heavily overgrown. She would have to take ultimate care and still risked leaving a trace of her entry. But once through and after only a few metres, she would be utterly invisible to any passing hunter. And -- she shook a plasteel flask at her hip -- she had just enough scentblock remaining to give her a chance of eluding the Pack too.
She ripped the flask from her belt and came to an abrupt halt at the fork. Stepping gingerly over the first fronds of bracken she sprayed a fine mist of scentblock behind her, checking as best she could in the crepuscular coppice that she left no tracks. After a dozen metres, convinced she had done all she could and unwilling to spend more time on covering her entry to the dark path, she turned and ran through the thickening undergrowth.
Not more than fifty metres further and she began to consider the mistake she had just made. It was too late to turn back -- the Pack would certainly be passing the point where she left the path at any moment -- but her progress had slowed to a crawl on account of the heavy undergrowth. Worse, she could no longer make out any path at all. Each gap between trees looked as though it might be a path, until she tried it and found it blocked with bramble, or sickmoss, or trapweed. Tani stopped, trying to quieten her breathing, and considered what to do.
As the pounding of her heart lessened, she became aware of the faint sound of music coming through the trees from her left. She turned toward it, and immediately the gap between the two largest boles in that direction resolved itself into a clear path. Amazed she had not seen it before and determined now to discover the source of the unexpected melody she pushed on along the new passage. The strain became louder with every step. It seemed somehow familiar to her, though she was certain she had never heard it before. She had often heard others talk of how music "called to them," but until now had never experienced it for herself. She felt almost impelled along the path. She had neither the desire nor the ability to turn aside and find a new direction. Her plan had been to veer and jig constantly during her flight, to be completely unpredictable, but all concerns over being caught had evaporated from her suddenly calm mind as she sought out the source of the refrain.
The wood remained as pitch dark as it had when she first stepped onto this eldritch path, yet her feet seemed to find their own way, stepping over obstacles concealed beneath the ground cover, avoiding trip hazards and pot holes. She was travelling almost as quickly through this section of the forest as she had been on the clear path. After another few metres she glimpsed a flash of bright green between the low-hanging branches. The music was much louder now. It filled her mind. Her heart was pounding again, despite the fact she was no longer running. Tani rounded the trunk of an enormous, ancient oak and stepped into a clearing. Other large oaks surrounded it, but between them nothing grew. The forest floor was a carpet of old bracken and leaf litter. The sweet woody smell of the decaying leaves drifted up as she walked over them. In the centre of the clearing, on a low outcrop of rock a very small, very old man in a bright green cap sat playing a set of Pan pipes.
[ this story is continued later in the writing challenge - on Day 82 in "Advantage" ]
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