I thought back to the amorphous shape that I had witnessed when I had to separate from Rilah. It was so large that I didn't so much hear it, as feel it descend.
The massive weight rippling through the earth was not unlike a strike against the skin of a tightly stretched drum.
It felt foreboding, like the forest itself were too small to contain its menacing presence. The malice that bled off its silhouette like waves was so heavy in my mind, that I had to physically wrench my head away from the imaginary visual; in order to regain even a slightest semblance of control from the illusory invader.
I blinked wildly, as if his presence had blinded me in the real world, and placed a palm to my head to soothe the subtle pang of a headache that was inflicted.
Witnessing my apparent distress, Fimbs and Janny looked with concern. Before they could ask, I volunteered, "I ...h-heard something, before we were separated. Or, felt it, really.
"It matched the detail of what you had described. It was big, and it was silent, and— There was this big feather on the ground, before..."
I shook my head, as my voice trailed off, palpating with a discernible level of fear. I had only caught its shape in the miasma of my general awareness, but it seemed unnatural for a creature that large to move without disturbing the surrounding environment to an equally massive consequence.
"I'm not sure what the relationship between the feather and the creature is," I continued, "but Vassur said something about a Gigasven when I brought it to him. Do you guys think we really have what it takes to handle something like that?"
Janius had a face that could turn a sliper into stone, while Fimbs simply looked confused. "What is a Gigasven?" she asked.
"A name of unknown origin," Janny supplied, fully digesting the gravity of that claim. Every creature in The Stalks is specifically described with its home domain for the utility of knowing the dangers present in every zone, but our knowledge only goes up to a point.
Creatures from the Nightwhere and beyond have only a handful of stories to their name, in general; and their recollection can range from anywhere between the third and fourth domains with very little to differentiate the boundary.
Even worse, it could've migrated from the fifth; where stories don't ever return from, at all—The dreaded Hadal Forest Domain.
There was no way that I could take on such a creature on my own, but with my two friends, here, there just may have been a sliver of a chance.
Fimbs didn't seem so convinced. "How is that possible? Doesn't every creature have a home to return to?"
Janny sighed, "It's not that it doesn't have a home; it's just that no one has ever lived to see it." Possibly a moot distinction, but it seemed to calm her down, some.
"And now whatever horrible amalgam that crawled out of the deepest darkest corners of the stalks is hanging somewhere over our heads." I said, feeling ashamed for the tremor of dread that thought dug into the pit of my stomach.
"And they've got Rilah, too." Janius reminded.
The tactic worked famously, as the thought of my friend alone in the canopy fending for herself against the wiles of a mindless unfathomable monstrosity was enough to set my entire spinal column aflame with anger.
"To the fifth with fear," I spat; unquenchable fury dripping from every syllable. "To the fifth with waiting. To the fifth with safety, and patience. To the fifth, wherever that creature may have come."
Janny nodded excitedly, as ecstatic as ever to see me renewed with zeal and vigor at the circumstance I had found myself within.
"Yes, Zoel! Remind the stalks who is in control!" he practically screamed at me, much to Fimbs' chagrin.
"I couldn't care less about controlling the forest. But we are going to find a way up into that canopy if I am climbing with my depth diving teeth!" I huffed, suddenly out of breath. "Fimbs!"
She came to attention with a start, like she had been conscripted into some sort of army. "Y-yes, Zoel?!"
"I need you to tell me anything that you might know about climbing trees without relying on feet. Janny and I are both down a leg and two soles, respectively."
"You mean, we're going straight up?!" She looked like I was breaking a cardinal rule of her trade.
I didn't care any more. I just needed to do something. Anything!
So I snapped back, "It's the only way we can gain any insight whatsoever on what's actually going on with Rilah, right now. Do you have any ideas, or do I have to free-hand this?"
Janius stepped in, with a polite laugh. "I'm sure you have your concerns about the logistics of how to do this safely, and all, but... I think he's trying to say that we're a little short on time, and seeing as this is your expertise—Well, we'd all love to know what exactly our options are. If you would, please?"
She gave him a look that a cat might wear after you dumped a bowl of cool river water onto its body, and sighed. "It's a little short-notice, but I suppose I could teach you both about wedging."
"Amazing!" Janny exclaimed, so glad to hear that there was a way forward, that he had to go back and clarify that he didn't exactly know the first thing that she was talking about. "And, what exactly is wedging used for?"
She smiled, slightly charmed by his mistake. "It's a method for securing yourself to a tree without using a rope or anchors. We're only supposed to use it for small trees because the bark gets more rubbery as you get higher in the trees, but... this is an emergency, after all."
We were walked through the basics, and given just enough history to understand the methodology. It was learned from observing some primate's method of traversal.
I called down, "I won't forgive that horror!" from several yards up the tree.
My fingers were fastened securely into the slender gaps in the bark that was so old and overgrown through the ages that the slender fissures that were so characteristic of normal trees had developed into vast canyons of sharp, biting rhytidome cork.
The challenge was finding the patterns of convergence that matched the shape of the downward turned palm. Then, it was as easy as slipping into a glove.