Constance trudged through the heavy undergrowth. Years uncounted of forest litter had piled up so deeply that, at times, she found herself sunk up to her hips in the decaying matter. It wasn’t altogether unpleasant or dangerous; there wasn’t much moisture in the ground, and neither were there any venomous insects of snakes in this region. Mostly it was just the periodic inconvenience of finding herself stuck in the soft earth.

The smell of the forest was intense yet not overwhelming. It was the sort of smell that you never got use to, never seemed to fade away, and yet you never got tired of it. The soft smell of unseen mushrooms, of pollen in the air, and the gentle decay of long dead trees and fallen leaves.

For the past few hours she had continued on through the woods, sometimes climbing up sloping hills while at other times she walked along on of the many wandering streams that cut their way between the trees and outcroppings of rock. There were no trails this deep into the forest. As far as she knew, no one had ventured this far for several decades and she wanted to know why.

“There’s no reason to go that way,” her mother had always said whenever Constance asked her.

“Only fools look for solutions when there’s no problem in the first place,” was her dads usual response, often times followed up with the question, “you’re not a fool, are you?”

Others in town were less practical and, frequently, more imaginative.

“There’s probably bears, or wolves, or who knows what else that deep in the woods,” was a common theory. “They’d’ve never seen people before, and might not like being seen by you or I.”

In the end, the various responses to her frequent questions were never satisfactory. And so, with it being her 13^th birthday just the week before, she’d asked her parents if they would let her go off camping on her own. She’d promised not to go deep into the woods.

“I just want to forage,” she had explained, “and there never seems enough time to look properly since by the time you do find a good spot you practically have to turn right back around and go home.”

Constance was something of a celebrity in town ever since she’d proven herself as the most expert forager among them. She had a knack for it, noticing things others didn’t. It wasn’t just mushrooms she was good at finding either. Once the town healer had shown her what to look for, Constance had been able to quickly start bringing back buckets of useful roots and herbs.

It took some convincing, especially the part about going alone, but she’d insisted that anyone else traveling with her would only slow her down and distract her.

“Besides,” she had told them, “most people are needed right now for harvest.”

It was true enough that there wasn’t hardly anyone to spare. Harvest was the busiest time of the year as everyone pitched in to gather, preserve, and store their various crops. Constance was old enough to help out, but her skills as a forager were practically just as important, especially since the growing season was coming to an end. Whatever she could forage now would have to last them until the following Spring.

“No more than a couple days,” her parents told her. “And never leave the paths we already know. If you get lost out there or run into any trouble we want to be able to find you.”

With that, Constance packed her traveling bag and set out. That was now three days ago. Her parents wouldn’t be expecting her back until tomorrow, or perhaps the day after that, so she wasn’t too concerned about having to turn back just yet. She wanted to explore just a bit further this day. She’d begin her return journey in the morning.

Her pack was heavy. She’d filled it after only the second day. There were enough supplies in there to keep her fed while she trekked through the woods, as well as plenty more to show her parents and prove it was a worthwhile allowance on their part to let her go. She’d found several new areas where she could return later for more.

The forest grew quiet as the heat of the day approached. Most animals found burrows or other shelter to pass the time while they awaited the cooler afternoon hours. Constance pressed on. From time to time she came across a plant she didn’t recognize and, if it looked particularly interesting, she would collect a small sample to bring back with her. Most of them would probably turn out to be useless, but on the off chance some of them were beneficial she brought them along. Having any excuse to press further out into the woods was reason enough for her to bother with such things.

She found a clearing in the wood, perhaps ten yards across and fairly circular. A large tree must have once stood here, she figured, crowding out the other trees. Once it fell it left this hole in the canopy. Young trees would have a hard time competing with the grasses that grew so much faster and more easily. Still, these small pockets in the forest couldn’t last forever and they’d eventually be filled back in as the trees pressed inward once more. As she looked, sure enough, she spotted a few younger trees growing up along the outer edges of the meadow.

The sun was high and the shadows were short and Constance figured now was as good as any time for a meal. The grass would be a pleasant break from the roots and stumps she had been using to rest on during her other breaks.

She picked out a spot where the soil was nice and springy and she set to work, laying out her meal. It wasn’t anything particularly special. Mostly some dried meat, a tuber she’d foraged earlier, and some wild berries. Still, it was filling. After finishing her meal she laid back in the grass and looked upward towards the sky. Clouds, thin and wispy, flowed slowly by. There was no hint of foul weather. She probably had another couple weeks before the late autumn rains began. Then there would be –

Something was wrong. Constance wasn’t sure what it was or how she knew it, but deep down in her soul, she was suddenly aware of some terrible danger.

Lying as she was in the grass, she couldn’t see anything around her. She also knew that nothing else could see her though. Carefully as she could manage, she packed up her travel bag and then poked her head up slowly above the tips of the grass.

Standing at the edge of the meadow, and looking right at Constance, was a…well, Constance wasn’t quite sure what it was. At first she thought it was a person since its form followed mostly that of a person. Two arms, two legs, stood upright, but there were too many things off about it to be properly human. For one thing, she couldn’t be sure if it was wearing clothes or if that was just the nature of its skin. If it was wearing clothes, then it was certainly the most bizarre clothing she’d ever seen. Slabs of bark and thick mats of moss made up the bulk of the creatures clothing, or skin, but there were flowers and mushrooms and even a few patches of fur here and there.

The face, however, was the most obvious sign of its lack of humanity. While it still bore the same basic features of a person, the eyes were overlarge and the ears were like those of a deer and much higher up on their head than those of a person. They also bore at least three sets of antlers of varying size growing out from their scalp. Their hair was thick and flowing but lacked the sheen of human hair. Instead it looked more like the closely matted hair of a river otter that had grown overlong.

As Constance looked at it, and it at her, it smiled and raised a woody hand as if to beckon her forwards. There wasn’t much else Constance could really do in this situation. She doubted she’d be able to outrun this creature, whatever it was, and so her hope rested on her ability to somehow negotiate her safe passage.

“If I have ignorantly trespassed on your land,” Constance began, “then I apologize and will speedily leave you and not return.”

The creature cocked its head to one side and for a moment Constance wondered if it could understand her. Then, however, it opened its mouth and began to speak. The shock and horror of what she saw caused her to miss what the creature said at first. It’s mouth opened more like that of a serpent, the jaw hinging farther back than would have been normal for a human, and inside its mouth were rows of short, sharp teeth.

“Oh, forgive me,” the creature said and it held up a hand in front of its mouth so as to hide it from Constance’s view, “I know my kind can seem quite unusual to humans.”

Constance nodded and she felt as though she ought to say something, or at least give the creature a more relaxed smile, but her mouth was dry and it was all she could do to keep from shaking all over.

“I asked if you were lost?”

Constance looked up to the sky, then over towards the distant mountain peaks she could just make out over the tops of the trees.

“No, I’m not lost,” Constance said at last after struggling for a few moments to form the words. “I was just exploring the woods since my people don’t travel in them and I was curious.”

“I see,” the creature replied. “So you know where you are?”

It sounded to Constance more like a trick question than an innocent one and she had to think carefully about her response. Though she wasn’t sure why, she felt as though she had to be especially careful with what she said to this creature.

“I know where my home is, and how I can get there from here, but I do not know this specific place.”

Surprise and admiration flashed across the creatures face for a moment but it was quickly subdued.

“I see,” the creature said yet again, “and may I have the pleasure of having your name?”

Something in Constance’s memory slid into place. It was from years ago as a little girl. She had asked her grandmother about the woods and her grandmother, instead of giving her any of the usual responses, told her a short rhyme.

To share and aid is well and good,

For all who walk the shady wood,

But keep what’s yours with which you came

Beware you don’t give ‘way your name

“You may call me traveler,” Constance said, “but I must insist on keeping my name.”

The creature narrowed its eyes and laid its ears down low along its skull. A narrow tongue licked its lips.

“I have been foraging,” Constance said to break the silence, “if I took anything I ought not to have taken I will return it to you. Otherwise, I am happy to share with you anything I have gathered from the forest.”

She lowered her traveling pack off her shoulders and placed it on the ground between them, the mouth of the bag open towards the creature.

The smile returned to the creatures face.

“You are a polite and a wise traveler,” it told her, walking over to the bag and inspecting its contents. “You have taken nothing amiss in the woods,” it went on, “and are welcome to come and go as you please anywhere between this meadow and your home. The lands beyond are forbidden. You may call me Moss Walker, and if ever you desire to see or speak with me, come to this place with similar offerings and speak my name. You will come to no harm as long as you abide by this instruction.”

It plucked a thin clump of roots from the bag, one of the pieces Constance was unsure about and hoping to discover its uses. The creature sniffed the roots and then tasted the cut ends before nodding approvingly and tucking them away inside a patch of moss on its chest.

“I will leave you now,” it told her, “and as a parting gift I warn you to return home swiftly as the first night of frost will be early in coming this year and you do not look properly prepared for such cold.”

With that it strode off to the far side of the meadow and disappeared into the trees. Constance let out a slow exhalation and took a few moments to calm her shaking hands. Whatever that thing was, whatever it had wanted, she couldn’t tell. What she was fairly certain of was that she had come terrifying close to some terrible fate. Still, she felt that the creature was honest with her. She would be safe to forage in the woods so long as she abided by the guidance she had been given. That said, she wasn’t sure she would ever come here again. One chance meeting with that creature had been enough.

With the last of her terror fading away she replaced her pack and began to make her way back towards home. She wasn’t sure what exactly to make of the strange creature, or if she would ever tell anyone else about it. What she was sure of was that she would be having a word with her grandmother, both to thank her and to see what else she might know about the forest.