Friday, September 5, 2014
Smelling the Forest
Umm, smoke. I could smell it all around me. I knew that my hair, my clothes, my very skin would smell like the fire for days, until I could become clean again. But this time, I didn't care.
The smell lured me closer. I took a few steps and realized that it wasn't just the smell of smoke tantalizing my nose--there was something cooking in the fire. I sniffed again and took another step closer and suddenly I no longer smelled smoke. I smelled the aroma of cooking food--a medley of delicious smells that wafted together. It wasn't just hare--I'd eaten that enough over the past weeks to know the smell of cooked hare instantly. No, this was something different, richer, more subtle. My stomach roared and I clenched an arm over it, trying to shush it's angry, eager noise.
A breeze hurried at me from my right and I caught the smell of something else. Something incredibly stinky. Something that smelled worse than I did. And the smell was strong.
I scurried back to my hiding place among the trees, careful not to step on any of the dry twigs and pine cones that littered the floor. My bare feet had toughed admirably, but a sharp prick was sure to break through the calluses, and I couldn't afford to lose any more blood, let alone to smell it again, to scream and reveal myself. Not until I knew who would find me. I knelt behind a low-growing pine. It blocked my view and filled my senses with evergreen. I could no longer smell the fire, the food, or the stinky thing. My stomach growled again in protest, and I huddled down further, shielding my stomach with my legs in an attempt to quiet it.
Evergreen. Pine. Dirt. The smells wafted up, and then disappeared, replaced by an odor so pungent I fell over backwards.
"I wouldn't lie down like that if I were you. Might get a tick. Then you'd die."
Check out Alison's and Deb's!