#gabz if you’re reading this: 98% of my writing process is pacing and beats. like music (??)

[badolmen]

Well, I originally wanted this piece to be the Botanist’s introduction to the Stranger, but the Wolfman had other ideas.

Aleks had finished most of their chores for the day, the rainwater bins emptied to glass jars and the traps prepared for another night. They had checked their plants, taken measurements, and recorded their data.

What little sanity they had left counted on those simple, repetitive, and menial tasks. Wake up. Water. Traps. Food plants. Research plants. Data recording. Rest. Repeat. Bad things always happened when they broke routine, when they left the familiar safety of their clearing – like the other day. The blood on their jacket didn’t wash out in the rainwater.

The botanist was content with their small circle of safety, their horizon that ended where the trees began. Even if their thoughts and fears traversed the dark forest beyond their cursed patch of land.

Today they convinced themselves it was sunny, though rarely was a spot of blue sky spotted these days. Even without the comforting expanse of sky, the warmth of the sun permeated the cloud cover. And the botanist decided it was a day of rest, although they had run out of calendars and lost track of individual days months ago.

They laid on the sandy soil – no helmet or face shield or earmuffs, no jacket, no chainsaw chaps. Just their bloodstained undershirt and trousers against the sun warmed soil. Aleks peered at the sky, squinting past the few dull flowerheads of the dying weeds that tried to survive the poisoned land. Maybe, if they looked hard enough and long enough, they could see blue.

“That one looks like a chicken,” Kalina said, not bothering to point as the two lay head to head in the field. She knew Aleks knew which cloud she was talking about. “And that one, it looks like a…a pram? Or maybe a bassinette…”

“I think it looks a bit like a broken umbrella,” They replied, although their eyes wandered to the bobbing heads of corn poppies around their head, eventually peering through the stalks to see if Kalina was watching them. She wasn’t; her dark eyes were trained on the brilliant and cloud scattered sky.

“Can I ask – ”

“I need to –”

“You go first,” Kalina conceded, a smile in her voice. Aleks swallowed back their inhibitions.

“I need to tell you that I’m leaving, come autumn.” Their own voice felt far away, the rehearsed lines not their own words after saying them so many times. “I got a scholarship – I, I won’t be back for a while…just, just until I finish my degree. Then I can get work out here, with the forest, and – and I’ll come back.”

“Oh,” Kalina’s voice was so small after the silence that preceded it, the rustle of the poppies almost drowning out her quiet sigh.

“Oh?” Aleks echoed, concern invading their every fiber. They couldn’t be sure, but it almost sounded like sorrow. Kalina rolled to her stomach, dark curls tickling the soon-to-be botanist’s nose as she smiled down at them.

“Oh, I’m so happy for you! You’ve always wanted to go to university – to the city. I’m sure you’ll be happy there,”

“Will you be? Happy – that is – while I’m gone?” Aleks too sat up, their hair tossed by the wind that swept over the field.

“Me?” Kalina laughed, shaking her head. “You are my dearest friend, but there is more to my happiness than one person. To live that way would be terrifying, I imagine.” Her smile faltered, grin bordering on grim. “Sorry, that’s not very romantic, is it?”

“No, I understand,” Aleks said, keeping their own false smile plastered. “Not putting your eggs in one basket,”

“More like having eggs, and sheep, and cattle, and the stray apple tree.” Kalina said with a chuckle. “You know what I mean – how you have your love of the trees, and love of rainy days, and love…for me. All love, just different kinds.”

Somewhere down in the village, a dinner bell rang. Kalina stood, dusting off her skirt and pulling Aleks to their feet.

“I’ll miss you,” She whispered, pulled them into a hug that lasted just a moment too long. With a sad smile, the girl began to trek through the poppies toward home.

“I’ll miss you, Kali,” Aleks called, finally finding their voice and forcing back the tears from their eyes. “I’ll bring you back something amazing – something beautiful!”

“Just come back Leksi,” Kalina called, her laughter damp with tears. “And come back soon!”

The botanist gasped awake, a swift kick to their bruised and battered torso jolting them from sleep. They groaned and rolled to their side, away from the unfortunately familiar figure that stood over them.

“You aren’t dead. Good.” The Wolfman growled, though his voice held a shine of cruel humor as the botanist crawled to their feet, still clutching their side.

“I’ve – I’ve got what you asked for,” They gasped between pained breaths, ribs aching as they stumbled towards their greenhouse, acutely aware of the Wolfman watching them with hungry eyes.

“Taking a midday nap? Keep that up and you’ll be a snack for the savages before I get a taste of you, Meat.” He snarled with a chuckle, the undercurrent of bloodlust in his joking tone made the botanist’s skin crawl. They ducked into their greenhouse, the shattered pane of glass still littering the dead ground around the entrance.

“I have it, here,” Aleks said, producing a sealed ceramic jar from their shelves and holding it out to the Wolfman. His nose twitched, lips curling at the bitter scent that wafted from the jar when he uncapped it. For a moment the botanist’s heart skipped a beat – was it not purified enough? Concentrated enough? Had they forgotten a step that he could smell better then they could see?

“Your services are always a delight, Meat. You might just live another night.” He finally said, capping the jar and producing a few tanks of gasoline. The botanist refrained from sighing in relief – the Wolfman didn’t take any sign of weakness lightly.

“Same to you, sir.” They said plainly, picking up two of the tanks to take to their generator. A pot clattered to the ground, shattering as the Wolfman shoulder through the doorway. An accident, probably.

“You might want to clean that up,” He grumbled without bothering to stop, walking away and eventually disappearing into the tree line.

The botanist sighed, setting down the gasoline and kneeling beside the shattered pot, carefully setting aside the sickly seedling it had housed. As they cleaned up the mess and set to filling their generator for the coming night, they let their mind wander.

Whatever did the Wolfman want with concentrated tannins?

Aleks didn’t want to find out.