Cassandra and the man
Her eyes crawled open just as a pine needle caught in her hair. Cassandra had been wakened by the sun, just as it passed between the trees in its rise from slumber. The warmth was caressing her face, but it wasn't enough to dissipate her heaviness, so sleep took over and left her on the forest floor alone, more needles blown from the trees to cover her.
When next she woke, Cassandra felt a burn developing on her skin and the sun only hurting it more. She wished for shade, and it slowly spread, letting her open her eyes and see the bouncing trees beside her as they past. Wasn't it weird, to wake to moving shade and bouncing trees, thought Cassandra, as she went to stretch the sleep from her limbs. But pain struck out at her muscles, and she felt them tighten to her movement. The shade slowly disappeared, and Cassandra turned to sleep some more, letting her muscles heal themselves, burying her head into a man's chest, hearing his heart beat.
The man then bent to talk to her, wish her good morning and explain the situation, why he was carrying her. The bouncing trees and movement of shade was, after all, his doing, and he had waited for Cassandra to wake proper before answering her voiced questions. But, alas, she had turned to sleep once more, leaving him alone like a coroner. So the man continued to carry her, enjoying his crunching footsteps and the company afforded him. Cassandra's brown hair was speckled with pine needles now, her lithe body draped in his arms, bruises running up and down where she had fallen.
Of course, he didn't know she had fallen, just that her body had been caught in the forest, with sharp breath and groans the only source of life in her. Cassandra herself did not even know this much, a little bit of her memory that hadn't formed properly yet.
He had been carrying her for hours, and needed ways to entertain himself, so he mused on what would happen when she properly awoke. He gave her names and personality, noting that she would love to walk with him through the park they were in, that her name was Cassandra and she would never do something so foolish as hurt herself again. She would ask about her backpack, and he would explain that he found nothing of the sort with her, that it must have been lost during whatever happened to her. But Cassandra would still be grateful to him, and he would smile and tell her that it wasn't anything. The man was all set to explain this to her, but Cassandra had only flirted with consciousness, rolling back to sleep before he could introduce her.
So he continued to carry her forward, lost in his head as his feet took them closer to the parking lot. When the sun was at its peak, and the noon heat was too much for a man carrying two loads, he leaned her against a trunk and sat beside her. Through the day, her bruises had slowly turned to a pale green, resembling a sickness which pervaded up and down her arms. But colour was slowly returning to her cheeks, and the man titled back her head and poured water past her cracked lips.
He had not seen anyone on the path, but it was no surprise as it wasn't one of the popular walks beside a lake. Instead, the trail wound around and through a valley, caught between two mountains. It started at the base of one, and went west until it was in the center of the valley, before heading north until it hit the edge of the valley, and curling around, past the benches and abandoned visitor center. Deer would often be seen by the trail, only for a moment before running away through the forest. The attraction of the park was its sparse trees, which allowed one to go out easily between them, and not be stuck to a path heading over fallen logs and mossy rocks. The trees themselves were old growth, and had long since stolen all the sunlight away, leaving little for the underbrush.
No company had ever tried to log the forest, due to the high cost of accessing the small area, so it had been left to slowly develop. Old growth trees were still common, but without any money from the logging companies and no interest from the populace it had slowly started to recover its lost ground.
The man finished off the water he had brought for his hike and picked up Cassandra, slowly wrapping his arms around her body. She had not woken again since the time in his arms, and while the man sat and watched her rest against the tree, she had not moved once, not to swat the wind or wave away the bugs clambering across her legs.
But as was expected, the man thought, for someone having been attacked. No scars marred her skin, but she had been chased by an animal, towards and up a strong tree. She had thrown her bag at the animal, only for it to shrug it off. It starred up at her, a lost sight. But in the distance, a deer broke a twig, and the animal gave chase to leave her behind. In fear, Cassandra stayed in the tree, but what could she do up there when the moon was at its zenith, and sleep took her arm off the branch. She fell, missed the edges but hit the ground hard, bruising her body. The man knew all this, and promised to begin his introduction by explaining the importance of hiking with a friend.
“Oh? You think I should have gone with someone?”
“Well, it's the smart thing to do. That way, someone could have gone to get help, or stopped you from falling.”
“That sounds great in retrospect, but not many of my friends like to be chased by animals.”
“I don't think you planned on that.”
“And why don't you have someone with you?”
“I usually go with people, because I know this place so well. So when no one needs me, I'm by myself.”
“Are you trying to say that you want to go hiking with me? Don't worry, I think so too. As soon as my bruises heal.”
Cassandra's head rocked against the man's chest, back and forth with each step. It wasn't something worth pursuing, her lack of companion or hap stance state. Maybe next time he would arrive in time to fix the situation, not lecture on it.
The turn in the trail marked the end came up, and the man began to wonder about the vehicle Cassandra drove, whether she had driven at all. If he could guess, and put her inside it, to wait until she woke up from her dreams, to think the day was just ending and she had been pulled through the forest by some force which took memories. How Cassandra would drive home wondering what was to happen, but at the end find herself coming back every day, first to figure out what happened, but later for her love of the place which provided something unique in her life.
The last hill topped out under the man's feet, and he saw the gravel of the parking lot ahead of him. Kneeling down, he leaned Cassandra against the tire of the only other car there, a white truck whose door had been left unlocked. A sun washed sign marked the exit of the park, behind it the oldest trees gathered around a stump like mourning parents, marked for its age. Beside the stump and sign, sat a grown over trail, which once lead up the mountain, before the path was blocked by fallen trees. The rest of the parking lot's only feature was gray gravel, long since thinned out in the surrounding area, or picked up by bored children to throw against trunks.
After the man's car left, a father with his son came out of the forest to see Cassandra leaning against their car, only beginning to wake up. Her eyes blinked from the sun, which had seemed so much clearer from the top of the tree.
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