The forest loosened.
Trunks thinned into distance.
Roots no longer tangled beneath soil.
The wooden being stepped forward
And did not fall.
Another step.
Still upright.
Another.
No interruption.
The ground was even.
Compact.
Uniform.
For the first time since leaving the intelligent trees, the pattern of collapse did not return.
The stride lengthened.
Not consciously.
Not dramatically.
But noticeably.
Step.
Step.
Step.
The movement became continuous.
The body leaned forward slightly more than before, and nothing resisted it.
No root caught its ankle.
No hollow swallowed its foot.
The fractures along its legs tightened once
Then remained steady.
The pace increased.
Not running.
But closer to it.
Distance shortened between each placement.
The clearing stretched open around it.
Grass bent beneath its weight.
Wind moved without obstruction.
It crossed the open ground faster than it had crossed the forest in days.
Then...
It slowed.
Stopped.
A tree stood alone near the center.
It approached.
Its hand rose.
Scratched.
The outer bark peeled away in thin, dry strips.
It scratched again.
Higher.
Lower.
Faster.
The bark came away easily.
The motion repeated with increasing rhythm.
The wooden fingers dragged down the trunk again and again until the outer layer had been completely removed.
The pale inner surface remained.
It scratched that.
Harder.
The sound deepened.
But nothing yielded.
It pressed more firmly.
No separation.
The hand paused mid-scrape.
Pressed harder.
Still nothing.
The motion grew sharper.
Quicker.
Repeated.
Repeated.
Repeated.
No change.
The hand lowered.
The wooden being stood still for several seconds.
Then turned toward a stone nearby.
It stepped toward it with short, direct strides.
Placed its hand against the surface.
Scratched.
No mark.
Scratched again.
Harder.
Nothing.
It shifted angle.
Scratched again.
The stone did not respond.
The hand remained pressed against it longer than before.
Still.
Then it withdrew.
Small plants grew between cracks in soil.
The wooden being bent slightly.
Reached for one.
Pulled.
The stem tore easily.
It dropped it.
Reached for another.
Pulled.
Tore.
Dropped.
The motion repeated.
But after several plants were uprooted, its wooden fingers struggled to grasp smaller stems.
They slipped.
Pulled again.
Missed.
Pulled harder.
The stem bent but did not tear.
It adjusted angle.
Tried again.
No result.
Again.
No result.
The wooden fingers pressed down into soil awkwardly.
The plant remained rooted.
The motion repeated several times.
Each attempt slightly sharper than the last.
Then it stopped.
The hand lowered slowly.
The wooden being remained bent for a moment.
Then straightened.
It stood without moving.
The clearing around it had changed.
Trees stripped.
Plants scattered.
Stone untouched.
Nothing new yielded.
Nothing new responded.
It walked a few steps.
Stopped again.
Then lowered its body slowly onto the ground among the remaining plants.
Not collapsed.
Not fallen.
Just lowered.
The torso leaned backward.
The wooden limbs extended loosely against soil.
It lay there.
Still.
Wind passed over the clearing.
The vibration was steady.
Uniform.
It did not move.
Time passed.
Clouds gathered gradually overhead.
Light dimmed.
The air thickened.
A low rumble rolled across distant sky.
The wooden being remained lying on its back, unmoving.
The first flash split the clouds.
Lightning struck somewhere beyond the tree line.
The sound followed seconds later.
Heavy.
Deep.
The sky darkened further.
Wind rose sharply, bending grass flat against soil.
Another flash.
Closer.
Thunder cracked violently across the clearing.
The wooden being did not rise.
It remained in the same resting position, facing upward.
Clouds churned directly above.
The air grew charged.
A final burst of lightning tore across the sky
And rain began...
Heavily!!...