The Whispering Woods

Jezzy, was a practical girl with an impractical name living in a world where the forest held secrets and stories long forgotten. Jezzy, a young writer, found herself wandering through the dense trees, searching for inspiration. The sunlight was filtered through the leaves, casting playful shadows on the ground. As she walked deeper into the woods, a strange stillness enveloped her, making each step feel heavier. Until, she was forced to stop and pick up a stick. Why was she forced to, you ask? Well, because she heard someone yell to her, “Watch out for that stick! Don’t trip and pick it up!” It really wasn’t a stick it was more of a large branch, a tree that had fallen on her path.

“Pick it up?” She thought to herself. I can’t pick this up. It’s nearly the size of a tree. Besides, who yelled at me? She looked all around and didn’t see anyone. 

Jezzy was so much in her own thoughts that she didn’t even see the branch that was in front of her or who it was that yelled at her. She was busy, admiring the beauty of the forest. It was her favorite pastime. The beautiful perfect weather, the sunshine pouring onto the path wherever the trees aloud it to breakthrough was her idea of Heaven. But her reverie was disturbed now, by someone yelling. It may have very well been her, that yelled it to herself, but she didn’t really give much thought to this. Now, she had a problem ahead of her. Still looking all around for the person that belonged to that voice, but the only thing in sight was a large tree that had fallen across the path, its roots exposed and gnarled.

Curiosity piqued, and Jezzy approached the fallen tree. See, the best part of Jezzy was her ability to just be in the moment. She was up for anything at anytime, and never really stressed about the outcome of it all. She either did well, or she didn’t. Sure, she got into some trouble, but her family was so worried and stressed most of the time, that they didn’t really give Jezzy much thought. She was kind of on her own. This is why she never seemed to notice that the overly large tree branch had fallen just as she was coming up to that spot on the path. She was too busy admiring the other trees, the sunlight, and the birds at the time. 

Jezzy approached the fallen tree and had decided to sit on that big old branch, and think about what she should do next. As soon as she sat down, beneath its massive trunk, she noticed a slim, sturdy stick lying on the ground. As she picked it up a surge of energy rushed through her, as if the forest itself had awakened. The stick felt warm and alive in her hands, a tool not just for clearing the path, but for magic. 

As Jezzy was sitting on the tree still holding the stick. A stag with one antler confidently walked out in front of her. They stared at each other for a few moments, before the stag spoke gruffly. “What are you doing here?” 

Jezzy was a little shocked but she was always inside of her own imagination anyway, this really wasn’t outside the realm of possibilities in her world. For a split second she thought animals speaking was impossible but she answered him anyway.

“I cannot cross. This tree has blocked me from passing through. So, I am sitting here deciding what I should do next.” She sincerely spoke without alarm at the fact that she was speaking to a stag.

The one antlered stag was puffing his chest and digging at the earth with one hoof. His anger and frustration could be sensed by his body language alone. However, he looked somewhat awkward with only one antler and was standing with his head tilted to counterbalance the unusually large ten-pointed antler on the opposite side. The visual to the young girl, Jezzy, didn't frighten her, but made her feel as though she had the upper hand in the situation. Fear wasn’t a reality in Jezzy’s world.  

The stag was angered by now. He had a plan but this young girl was putting a dent in it. His plan was to deter all humans from walking down that path and when she didn’t immediately leave the forest, he was frustrated. He walked over to Jezzy slowly and bent his head towards her in an intimidating pose, and glared his large, deep brown eyes directly into hers and said, “I want you to leave my forest now and never return. Your people have taken enough from my home, and it is enough.” 

Jezzy unconsciously dropped the stick, took a deep breath, and slid down until she was on the ground and leaned up against the fallen tree. She was a little caught off guard at the unlikeliness of the whole situation and even managed to give out a quiet chuckle. Was this all in her imagination?

This enraged the stag even more and he began to yell at Jezzy with some boisterous calls that only stags make. He was stamping and pawing at the ground as if to charge at her, but she was quite calm. The stag noticed her unwavering demeanor and asked more intrigued than angry, “Why aren’t you scared? I am the one who knocked this tree down and I sacrificed my antler to do so. I am standing here threatening to kill you and you do not budge. Why?”

Jezzy took a deep breath and locked eyes with the stag and honestly answered him, “I do not know.” Then, she let out a large yawn to which the stag took as an insult.  

The stag now enraged more than ever before was preparing to impail the young girl with his sole antler. He didn’t even care if he was going to lose it or not. Well, on second thought, maybe he was a little afraid of the pain… and not being able to defend himself… and of not finding a mate, but all of this was minimized by the anger he felt. “What is your name?” He asked the girl. “Jezzy” she said quietly. 

“PICK UP THAT STICK!” Someone angry cried out. 

Jezzy stood up quite alarmed now. The deep voice sounded as if it were right next to them. Jezzy spoke first, “Who said that?” The Stag looked at her and said nothing. He stood so still and put all of his energy into listening. Nothing, no sound except the sounds of the forest. After a few moments had passed and they had heard nothing, the Stag felt it was a trick and quickly he was back to his mission of removing Jezzy from the forest.

 He trotted up the path a little ways, turned around and was facing her at a good distance. He leaned back, lowered his stance and glared at her in an ominous pose. Just like the tree, she didn’t stand a chance, he thought to himself. This is what my antlers are for, defending my home. He began to charge at her. As he was running towards her, he noticed her looking up at the sky. Which made him want to look up also, to which he did, and just as he looked up still charging ahead, he rammed his lone antler at the base of the the large tree just where the roots had begun to give way. It was stuck. He was stuck. Jezzy had never moved but was now looking directly at him curiously.

“You were going to harm me?” Jezzy said as both a question and a statement. The Stag didn’t respond. He was feeling a wealth of emotions. He was angry that he had missed the girl, frustrated because he was stuck, and sad because he thought this was very much the end for him. 

“What a way to die, in such a pathetic attempt to fight for my home.” He thought to himself, and a tear washed down his face. Jezzy placed her hand gently on the Stag’s back and said nothing. He tensed up at the feel of an unfamiliar and uninvited touch, but then relaxed when he sensed it was not going to harm him. He couldn’t look anywhere but the ground. He was giving in and thinking of his own mortality and how he was going to survive this. He wasn’t. He was feeling weak and hopeless. 

“PICK UP THAT STICK!” Again, someone angrily cried out. 

Jezzy looked around again and then caught the eye of the stag and then the stick she had held before. Then, just as before, the slim, sturdy stick felt warm and alive in her hands. This wasn’t just any old stick, this was a tool, not just for clearing the path but for crafting a story. 

With the stick as her pen, Jezzy began to write in the air, the words shimmering like magic as they formed. Each stroke brought forth images of characters and adventures, weaving together a tale of resilience and discovery. The forest transformed before them. The trees began bending closer, as if to listen intently to the story being born from their heart. Jezzy began to write the stag free and with another flick recreated both antlers. The stag stood silent as he watched with amazement. 

Jezzy smiled knowing he was now free, and the Stag realizing this also breathed out in a heavy snort of glee. He wasn’t going to die, he was free, and no longer in pain from the lopsided way in which he had to hold his head up. He stood up straight and looked deep into the eyes of Jezzy who was still standing at his side with her hand gently on his back. They stood for a while before either of them spoke. 

The fallen tree had brought them together, but it had also blocked them from leaving. It was then that Jezzy realized that the fallen tree represented her and the stag’s own fears and doubts, and obstacles that had kept them from finishing their story. But with each word written, they both felt lighter, empowered but the realization that they could navigate through their uncertainties.

The voice returned, softer this time, “You have the strength to move beyond what holds you back.” Inspired, Jezzy embraced the challenge and continued to write, the forest becoming a sanctuary of creativity. With the stick as their guide, both Jezzy and the stag found the courage to confront their inner critics and obstacles that stifled them each in the past. 

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the woods, Jezzy said her goodbyes to the stag a knew she had made a friend for life. She then completed her story as a tale that spoke of bravery, transformation, and the magic of believing in oneself. With a heart full of gratitude, she placed the stick back on the ground, knowing that the journey through the forest had not only helped them finish their story but had also illuminated the path forward.