#folklore inspired

I shove the ribbon in my pocket and begin my long journey home.

It is three thousand, two hundred and fifty steps to my home in the forest. I count them even now for want of anything to occupy my mind. It is a lonely journey, but I have grown accustomed to the solitude, being what I am.

The steps and minutes drag on until I find myself rounding the corner to a familiar hut.

Home.

I drop the handles of the cart, heedless of the supplies I purchased in town. There will be time enough for that in a few moments.

I heave a sigh of relief as I peel the masculine clothing off of my body.

The dress I pull out from the hiding place under my bed is stolen. It was left out to dry unattended and impulse seized me. That was years ago by now, but guilt still gnaws mightily at me.

I pull it over my head and feel something loosen inside me. I finally feel like myself for the first time since I left this morning.

With that done, I settle into familiar routine. Food and supplies find their places in my stores. The cart finds its place under the shelter of a gnarled oak that has begun to drop its acorns. The acorns will need to find their place in my stores as well, but there will be time enough in the course of the week.

Now is time to settle into my craft. Now is the time to settle into the comfortable rhythm of routine.

Wood is piled, carefully, methodically, and precisely to bring me the most charcoal. Brush is piled on the wood. Earth is piled on the brush. The fire is kindled.

And then I sit.

My work is done and the fire's work begins. My job now is to watch and guide it if it becomes unruly.

I close my eyes for a moment…

* * *

I snap awake. The shadows have changed. Later, but not terribly so.

Something has the hairs on the back of my neck prickling.

I am not alone.

Leaves crunch under a soft footfall.

I leap to my feet and spin, heart hammering in my chest at the thought of being caught like this… caught as myself.

I curse my luck.

Careless. Stupid.

I spot her at the edge of the trees. She halts at the sight of me, peering curiously past a curtain of red-gold hair. I don't recognize her, but she is dressed simply, a peasant's dress. She could have slipped into any crowd in town if not for some uncanny demeanor that I cannot quite place.

Belatedly, it occurs to me to wonder why she is approaching from the forest and not the woods.

The thought vanishes in an instant as a stray movement behind her catches my eye.

A tail.

My fear becomes into an altogether different kind of terror.

Huldra.

A forest spirit known for ensaring young men and luring them to their doom, never to be seen again.

Despite, or perhaps because of, the peril I now find myself in, I feel a sinking in my gut. Is that my fate? A young man lost in the woods? That's all anyone will ever remember me as.

But… do huldra not repay kindness in kind? I scour my memories of tales and songs sung in dark winter nights of my youth.

The scent of smoke snares my attention. It pulls my eyes away from her, back to the mound where the smoke has taken on a bluish hue.

The flame has grown too hot.

I bark a curse and fall to my knees before the mound and begin scooping mud into the air holes.

Feet crunch on the earth as the huldra approaches, ever curious.

It seems almost absurd, being caught in such a panic at the progress of my charcoal. Whether the huldra intends to seduce me or devour me on the spot, I do not know. What I do know is I will have lost a whole day's worth of burning if this batch is ruined.

As I work, I find myself explaining why she has seemingly become an afterthought.

"Too much air and the wood will burn," I explain to her, my voice deep and rough from disuse. "Not enough and the fire goes out."

She kneels beside me, rapt with attention.

As I work I steal glances at her, trying to work out what exactly I am dealing with here. Her tail coils around her, flicking lazily, some strange halfway between a fox's tail and a cow's. She brushes back her hair absently and I catch sight of pointed ears, with dark fur along the edge. Her fingers are tipped with short claws and themselves seem to be stained black as if with soot.

Like mine.

Some feeling stirs in me, a horrible agonizing envy.

She cocks her head and blinks at me in confusion. I realize I am staring at her, my work forgotten.

I cough and look away from golden eyes that seem to pierce into the very heart of me.

I feel raw, exposed.

I do not how long it has been since I have been this physically close to someone, human or otherwise. I certainly have never been in the presence of any person dressed as I am.

"I… I am sorry," I stammer, rising to my feet.

I rub my hands against the fabric of my skirt, leaving long streaks of mud.

I stare at the marks and clench my fists. This is wrong. I cannot-

A hand falls on my wrist, gently gripping my flesh.

Her touch is like fire, a sudden heat that streaks up my arm and into my heart.

I meet her eyes and find she is frowning slightly. It is difficult to read her face, but I do not believe it is disapproval on her brow. Perhaps confusion.

She rises to her feet, taking my hand in hers as she peers at it curiously. Her claws trace the lines and scars of my skin in fascination. With each touch, the fire in my core smoulders hotter.

I feel alien in my skin. Worse than usual.

I take in a ragged breath, but that only serves to fuel the flames.

"I… I do not-"

Whatever I was about to say is lost as she pulls my face to hers and presses a kiss to my lips. I grunt in protest against her lips, but she holds me tight, one hand gripping the back of my neck, the other gripping my wrist, her touch burning like hot iron.

There is no pain, despite the unnatural heat of her touch, and the inferno now blazing inside my veins.

This is how it ends, I realize. A huldra emerges from the woods and steals my soul.

I realize that I no longer care.

If she kills me here, what does it matter? How many more miserable years could I have lasted living like this?

I surrender to her.

I surrender and I feel her lips curve into a smile against mine.

Her hands find my shoulders and she shoves me with inhuman strength. My back meets a tree on the edge of a clearing. I cannot run now even if I wanted to.

She regards me, a predatory gleam in her eyes.

I smell smoke. Not from the charcoal fire, but from my own body. Each breath I take feeds the blaze inside me and my skin has begun to smoulder. I really am burning, but it smells of woodsmoke instead of burning flesh.

She has cursed me. Her touch has set something alight inside me, burning me up from the inside.

She pulls back the collar of my dress and lowers her mouth to the soft space just above my collar bone. Each kiss sends a new flare of heat into my body, every one of my now rasping breaths feeds the flames in my heart.

My hands splay for purchase against the bark of the tree behind me. Nails dig into the wood, sharper than they ought to be.

She peels the dress off my torso, which is now drenched in sweat. My breaths are quick and rapid now, urgent to feed the flames.

Her mouth finds my breast and her hands work at my flesh. Everything feels wrong about it, like there's a layer between her and me. I let out a plaintive moan, a higher register than I know.

She grins wickedly, meeting my eyes with her predatory gleam.

Her claws dig into the skin in my chest, scoring rough lines, but the wounds do not bleed. Instead the skin blackens and curls away from the rent, consumed by invisible flames. The char flakes away in the wind, revealing a soft, full, feminine breast beneath.

I let out a sound between a gasp and a moan and a sob. My hands wander to the newly liberated flesh. My own fingers, now tipped with sharp claws, probe at it while she works on the other breast.

I lose myself to the feeling of her lips and my claws and the blaze within. I somehow find myself on my back, fallen leaves collecting carelessly in my hair. My hands roam wider and wider, peeling back the old layers of me while she works herself lower and lower, finally pulling the dress fully over my hips and off of me entirely.

When she finally reaches her destination, I forget everything else. My hands fall to the earth and my head falls back, eyes unseeing as I am overtaken by a haze of sensation more intense than anything I've ever felt before.

Her attentions grow more focused and my body responds in kind, moving against her and silently begging for her not to stop.

As the conflagration within my soul reaches its peak, a scream builds in my throat, spilling out of me and shattering the peace in the forest.

I collapse, panting and sweating on the soft ground. I stare up at the canopy of leaves above us as she crawls languidly to nestle herself around me. All of the hard edges of my old body have burned away, leaving only soft curves.

She brushes a finger against my ear, clearing of the ashes of my old skin. Her touch against soft her is enough to elicit a whimper.

She laughs. It is not a human sound. I never would have heard it with human ears. It echoes through the trees, a deep sort of primal resonance. The trees, the wind, everything around us is alive in a way I could not perceive before. The colors of everything are so vivid, the details so sharp. I can hear and smell with such clarity that I cannot begin to describe.

She watches me, a soft knowing smile on her lips, as I begin to truly understand.

I am like her now.

I flick my tail experimentally, savoring the strange new sensations of it.

She rises to her feet and offers me her hand. There is not even a moment of hesitation before I take it. She smiles broadly, showing pointed teeth and her thumb makes a gentle, loving circle along my own hand. She draws me towards the trees, away from my home and everything I've ever known.