Avoidance in Verdure

The grass was so tall I couldn’t see over it. The trail we were on wound its way through the looming sea of green, avoiding treacherous bogs and quicksand. The bogs were insidious. They looked peaceful, almost like a meadow, dotted with lilting butterflies, but travelers would walk in and sink to a slow and fetid end. I knew how to avoid a bog, but the more I looked at the grass the more I wondered which was the real danger.

The horses were restless that night. One of them awoke suddenly, broke its halter and crashed off into the grass. We jumped up, lurching around the camp that night in a stupor and a panic. Someone lit a torch and we tried to assemble a search party, but it wasn’t long before we heard a plaintive whinnying.

The poor animal had waded right into the middle of a nearby bog. It was already up to its forelocks by the time we reached it, and we got there just in time to see its mouth stretching up for a few final breaths. Nobody slept well after that. What would drive a sensible creature to run headlong into quicksand?

The next morning was dark with storm clouds. By lunchtime, we were sopping wet from countless sudden downpours and trudging through a grey-green mist of endless grassy stalks. I had taken up the rear, trailing slightly to keep watch. The rain had stopped half an hour ago, but it seemed like it was about to pick up again.

With a sudden flash and a rattling clap of thunder, the storm broke yet again. It was right on top of us this time, and I was deafened by the downpour and the incessant lightning strikes. There was no way I could hear anything unusual, but without warning the hair on the back of my neck stood on end and I felt a cold sweat ripple across my skin. I turned around, just in time to see a long, dark tail slide into the grass.

I spun and raced along the trail to catch up with the group, shouting, though I knew they wouldn’t hear me. There wasn’t a soul to be found. I dropped to the ground, searching for footsteps or hoof prints. Nothing. I stood, surrounded on every side by grass that reached up twice my height. There was movement in front of, or maybe to the side. Everywhere I looked, I was sure I saw shapes coming towards me, but when I peered into the dripping green, I couldn’t see anything.

Pain shot up my side and I was hurled to the ground with such violence that I felt my ribs breaking. The hunting shadows loomed over me. Another sharp pain, and I looked down to find my stomach messy with blood. I didn’t even have time to scream before the stabbing bites began in earnest.