Page 46 of Solivagant

The howl was sudden, and so loud I felt the walls vibrate with the sound. It pierced me, waking up the beast within like it were being directly spoken to.

Fear.

Excitement.

Unlike the mimic, whatever animals were close by didn’t seem to care about the howling. They continued to ruffle around, and I continued to stay very still, waiting for them to leave.

Dawn arrived, and with it, beams of light through what remained of the window. It had been overtaken and almost completely obscured by vines, but enough light got in that I could make out my surroundings. A bedroom.

My chest ached. My head throbbed. My vision almost doubled. I saw the room as it was, but like peering through a veil, I could almost see what it used to be. Back when the paint on the walls weren’t peeled and faded, and the fabric covering the bed hadn’t melted over rusted springs and still had color and patterns. The window opened wide with a breeze that rustled the ghost of delicate curtains. The sound of pigs nearby.

It felt like something I weren’t meant to be seeing.

It’s not real.

It was.

The howling had stopped some time ago. The animals had moved along. But I was still here, trapped by another wall. Only this one was inside my mind. There was something in me I couldn’t quite access. Some reason that I knew this place. I had to know this place. I’d seen it in my dreams, even before I’d ended up here.

I wasn’t sure how long passed with me just sitting there, trying and failing to make sense of it all, but eventually I forced myself to move, walking through the house and its ghosts before making it back to the front door.

Wood creaked and leaves rustled on the other side before I opened it. I still had my knife in my hand, and I clenched it tighter as I listened for movement. Whatever was out there didn’t sound too big, but those fuckers could be quiet when they wanted to be.

All fell silent again, and I inhaled deeply, preparing for the worst before I twisted the handle and yanked the door open.

A frightened squeak, then a pained cry, as a tiny creature attempted to hobble away. Light and dark brown striped fur covered its little body as the piglet fell face-first into a pile of leaves.

I glanced around the open field, not noticing any other movement.

“That you making all that noise?” I asked.

The piglet squeaked in response. Once again it tried to stand up and scurry off, only to wobble and topple again.

I sighed. “What have you done to yourself?”

The piglet attempted to run again as I approached, but I quickly caught up to it. It squealed and screamed as I picked it up.

“Calm down, I’m not going to hurt you,” I sighed.

The reason it had been struggling was immediately obvious. Her front leg was obviously broken.

“What trouble did you get into, hmm?”

The piglet continued to squeal. She probably wouldn’t survive an injury like this if left alone, but I really should have been leaving. Big, pained eyes looked up into mine.

Help her.

With a sigh, I sheathed my knife.

It didn’t take long to locate some sticks that would work as a splint, then I brought her inside. She calmed as I set her down on what once was a sofa, now partially collapsed with its fabric having disintegrated into dust, leaving only the rotting wooden frame behind.

“You’re lucky I’m not attached to this shirt,” I told her, as I tore a strip of mostly clean fabric.

The piglet rapidly oinked and grunted in pain as I wrapped her tiny leg securely with the sticks and fabric, but as if she knew I were helping her, she didn’t struggle to get away.

“That’s a brave girl,” I praised, petting her head softly when I was done.

Still, she wasn’t likely to survive out here on her own with an injury like that, and I could probably take better care of her back in town.