"The maps and atlases of the world tell you an endless ocean surrounds it, but I have never seen this ocean. What I have seen is the dark and seething forest sweeping over the land like wildfire. The creak and groan of its limbs make the very air tremble, the canopy turning sunlight into lightning as it smothers the endless blue. That is the type of infinite I believe in."
-Algreria Blackwood

They were stopped at the gate by one of the Woodlins, and unfortunately Judas knew who she was immediately. His cheek still hurt from the punch she'd given him earlier. She, or Old Solomon.

Esther the Prickleback was a squat woman of middle age with enough pups to start her own dynasty if she wanted to, save for the terrible fact she'd been Preyborn. Luckily, this didn't seem to bother all that much. It did make her a tad bit mean, however.

"Where in the three hells are you two going," Esther demanded.

"We're going to bring the children back," Peter said honestly.

Judas winced. The Dogman had a nasty habit of that, he'd noticed.

"With him?" The Prickleback shot a hard look over at Judas, and deep down he knew he deserved it. Instead of his bag, he calmly rubbed at the stump of silver where his horns used to be.

"With him," Peter said.

"And your sure he isn't leading you into an ambush for the Forest Folk to kill you?"

"I trust him."

Judas winced again. He didn't like hearing that. Living up to other people's expectations had never been his strong suit, and with the Dogman it would be damn near impossible.

"I'm coming with you," Esther said.

"Out of the question," Peter said. "You'll be safer with the others."

"Need I remind you that the majority of children stolen today belonged to me? I have a greater stake in this than anyone else in the village. So I'm going and that's final."

"That's not how this works. Besides, It'll be more trouble with you around. I'll have to watch over the both of you if we get into any danger."

"I can handle myself." The quills on Esther's back prickled up along her back, one of them cleanly stabbing through a clay pot, contents dribbling onto the ground.

Peter stared down at the mess and gave a weary sigh. "I cannot promise you'll like what you see once we find them. You know the Forest Folk are without mercy. For the Scripture tells us so."

"I don't care," Esther said. "I need to find them. One way or another." She turned her dark eyes to Judas. "And I won't let anyone try and stop me."

In the end Peter relented. Judas never had a choice from the start.

They left the village by the time the storm cleared up, sunlight bouncing off the many puddles and pools littered about the land. Judas struggled at first with the mud, hooves sinking up to his calves in the unstable ground, but by the time the sun had reached its zenith it had baked the land into one, solid mass again.

They followed the old markers left behind by the Old Gods, tall wooden poles with spools of long, gray earth wrapped around, connecting them together at odd intervals. A dark road stretched out beneath it, an unnatural straight line in the middle of nature's chaos.

All roads lead back to The Forest, as the saying goes, till the ground becomes tainted and you walk the paths of the Old Gods, their feet as hard as stone.

By the time they'd reached The Forests' edge, the sun had begun its descent. It had grown in the three years Judas had been gone. When he'd first emerged from its inescapable grasp, there had been a lake nearby, and an old farmer waving at him as he fished along the edge.

There was no lake now, and no farmer. Both of them had been swallowed up in the creeping tendrils of the trees, the only remnant of their existence being an old fence post leaning off to one side.

Peter couldn't help but stare at it. "What happened here?"

"The Forest is getting bigger," Judas said. "By my calculations it will reach the village in roughly twenty or thirty years."

"Forests do not grow that quickly," Esther scowled at him.

"This one does." Judas stepped towards the treeline, not daring to meet Esther's patented scowls. She could frown the bark off a tree with that glare of hers, and he wasn't excited to see what would happen to him if he tried.

Truth was, he wasn't excited about any of this. He'd left The Forest for a reason. Coming back had never been part of the plan.

At the Forest's edge, the canopy is very sparse, the land littered with thinly spaced birch trees chased with heather and scrub. You can still see the path the Old Gods used to take, a line of smooth rock the color of cloudy obsidian. Sometimes it broke away, sometimes it merged together with other smaller roads, but always, always, it just kept going.

Judas marched on in stony silence for a long time, not daring to look back, lest he suffer another round of Esther's accusations, or Peter's reassuring speeches. Time oozed on, the landscape twisting and changing as they marched further and further into the suffocating confines of The Forest.

Birch trees gave way to thicker and thicker everwoods, the once tame heather replaced by wild clutches of blooming gorse and hemlock, creepers of ivy crawling along the path. The canopy bucked and swayed dangerously overhead, fingers of sunlight winking in and out of existence, flickering like tiny fairies, there and gone again.

"We should stop for the night," Judas suggested.

Esther glared at him, eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Why? Trying to give your forest friends some more distance between us? Are we going too fast for your liking?"

"That's not it at all!" Judas snapped at her. "It's getting late! The sun will set soon, and it'llonly get more dangerous the further we keep going. Stopping now will be our best option with the ground we've covered so far."

Peter looked from Judas to Esther. "It does sound like a good idea. We could do with some rest."

"Piss on the lot of you," Esther cursed. "I dare any creature, Forest Folk or otherwise, to try and feast upon my flesh and blood. They will find my body boiling hot from my wrath! I will turn their tongues into cinders!" She turned and started trundling down the path.

"It really isn't safe!" Judas called out, but all he got was a rude gesture in return.

Peter gave him a pained smile and shrugged. "You know how it is. She has lost the most children," he said, parroting her words. "She does have a greater stake in all this."

"She'll be the death of us," Judas muttered as he shook his head and plodded along after the Prickleback.

They found their first corpse after an hour of walking. By then the light had simmered into a gentle golden brown, filtered through thick pine needles. The body sat propped up against one of the guide poles, head tilted to one side, an old wound protruding from its neck.

Mushrooms had settled in first before the insects had a chance too. Large swaths of creamy yellow caps protruded from the arms and legs, a fat, green one blooming out of the Woodlin's skull.

At least, Judas guessed it was a Woodlin. Time and the mushrooms had eaten away much of the corpse, and at the rate of decomposition present, telling Predator from Prey would be damn near impossible.

"Who do you think he was?" Esther asked.

"He?" Judas asked.

"Well it certainly doesn't look like a woman!"

"It doesn't look much like anyone," Peter said. "Not anymore. Back to the Mother then."

"Back to the mother," Esther said.

Back to the Mother. According to Scripture it was the appropriate thing to say when confronted with someone's death. It eases the pain somehow, but Judas could never understand it. Him and hope were like oil and water, eternally avoiding one other like the plague, no matter how hard you tried to mix them together. Still, it didn't hurt to try.

"Back to the Mother," he muttered.

Esther shot him a dirty look. "Don't act like you believe, Hornsent. I know what your kind worship out here in The Forest."

Judas frowned. If she was trying to anger him, it was working out splendidly. "You know nothing about the Gods I cling to, Preyborn, so stay out of my business."

"I know plenty," she snarled back. "I've seen the twisted things your kind give thanks too. Gods too stubborn to die. Gods too curious to leave us all the hells alone." She spat at the foot of the corpse. "Take a good long look, heathen. This is what happens to those who turn their backs on the Mother."

Judas grit his teeth, one hand instinctively rubbing at the silver capped nub of his horn. He'd left the forest for a reason. Hadn't he? Why couldn't she see it? "What happened in the village wasn't my fault. We've been over this already."

"So you keep saying, but I know a liar when I see one. I was married to one for over thirty years, and the both of you reek of deceit. You can't hide your secrets from me."

Judas felt his heart skip a beat. Did she know about the thing in his pack? Had she somehow seen it? His eyes swiveled over to Peter, wondering what the Dogman would do to him if the Prickleback spilled her guts.

"That's enough, Esther." Peter stepped between them, his voice warm and calm as it always was. "You and I both know he's telling the truth."

That only made Esther angrier. The tough little spines on her back rattled and shook as she trembled with barely suppressed wroth. "Don't you put words in my mouth, Dogman! How can you stand here and defend that...that thing? It's a spawn of the Forest, the anathema we were told to watch out for! The false prophet! "

Judas winced. So he was a thing now? An evil object to be wary of instead of an evil person to be shunned.

"Because he's one of us," Peter said.

"Because he's one of you!" Esther shot back. "Don't you think I forgot what you are, Peter Graymane. Before his kind left The Forest, it was you and your ilk who preyed upon my family."

The Dogman held up his hands. "That was a long time ago, Esther. Before the Scriptures, before even the Mother was known. Back when the Old Gods still roamed the earth. That time is over now and you know it."

"Tell that to the Jackal who killed my mate last winter then! Tell that to the bastards that took my children! If it weren't for you two, if neither of your kind existed in the first place, they'd still be alive right now!"

It grew quiet then, save for Esther's heavy breathing, and the thundering in Judas' ears. No one said anything. Peter stared down at the Prickleback like he didn't quite know what to do with her.

Then he got angry, revealing the neat little gaps in his teeth as he snarled at her. "You forget yourself, Esther. Even you know it is unwise to provoke a Predator in your given state, clemency or otherwise. But I am better than that, Esther. Better than you, at least. May the Mother forgive you, because I will not." And without another word, he trudged off, head low and fists clenched, a single finger of rusty sunlight running along his back before disappearing into the shadows.

It was another hour before they stopped to make camp. By then no one was really speaking any more, each of them pitching their tent in an uncomfortable silence. Judas smashed his wooden stake into the dirt with the flat end of a rock, wondering if he should say something, but knew deep down he'd just make things worse if he tried. Words were never his speciality, nor leadership, nor brains once he thought about it. By the Mother, he really was worthless after all. Even he could see it now.

By the time the last ray of sunlight winked away from existence, Peter had sparked a small fire into life. They sat around it, roasting some of the food they'd brought along, enough for a couple days. Hopefully enough, at least. There hadn't been much to begin with, before the Forest Folk came and torched the village.

Night life began to stir as the fire burned low, the air swaying with the sounds of singing crickets, buzzing mosquitoes, the mating calls of the lesser folk untouched by the Old God's influence.

Judas closed his eyes, feeling at peace for once. He'd forgotten how much he missed this part of The Forest, the song of life constantly permeating the air, pulling you into a peaceful trance as it tethered you back into the cradle of existence. To think he'd given it all up to be among people like Esther, but that's hindsight for you.

"Ma...ma..." A voice called out from the darkness. It came from behind Judas, in front of him, everywhere and nowhere all at once. "Mama...mama..."

"I know that voice!" Esther jumped to her feet, wide eyes darting over the treeline. "That's my Matthew! That's my boy!"

Peter was up on his feet next, ears perked up, wet nose snuffling at the air. "Did he escape? Where is he?"

"Mama! Over here, Mama! Over here!" Matthew cried out.

"Matthew! I'm coming, my child! I'm coming!" Esther made a mad dash towards a nearby bush before Judas jumped in her way, seizing her by the wrist.

"Let go of me!" She screamed, trying to wrench her arm free. "Let go of me, you bastard! I need to save my boy!"

"That's not your boy," Judas cried out. "If you leave the fire now you'll die!"

"I don't care! I won't listen to you! You're a liar! A liar!"

Judas jumped back as the Prickleback swung at him, a needle as thick as his forearm nearly stabbing him in the eye. Esther turned about, tried to run, before Peter jumped in her way next, holding his arms out wide.

"Esther! Please!" the Dogman begged. "We don't know what could be out there! We have to at least hear Judas out!"

"No! Don't you try and stop me too," Esther said, tears streaming down her face as she desperately tried to push the Dogman out of the way, body thrashing to stab him with her spines, but he was simply too big for her, too strong. A Predator always out-matches its Prey.

"Mama!" Matthew kept crying out. "Over here! Over here, Mama!"

"Peter," Esther sobbed. "Please, let me go. It could really be him. It could really be my boy out there."

"It's not your boy," Judas said, voice dry and raspy from the smoke. "You have to believe me. I am begging you to believe me. Whatever that thing is, it is not your child."

The fire roared up behind them like an angry furnace, light and shadow dancing all around them like nefarious, hungry devils. Judas saw one of them pull away from the rest, edging eagerly towards Esther, the tiniest silhouette of a mouth calling wordlessly out to her.

The Prickleback fell to her knees, panic-stricken demands reduced into frantic sobs as Peter clutched to her tightly, afraid she'd bolt away at any moment if he let her go.

And all the while the voice kept calling out, changing from one missing child to the next.

"Mama...Mama..".

"I'm over here.."

"Come find me, Mama..."

"It's me..."

"Your sweet..."

"Little..."

"...boy...