Author's notes. I want to thank Mercurylove31 for editing this story. I thought it was time for something a little different. Please remember this is a work of adult fiction and all legal disclaimers apply. As with all my stories, I welcome any constructive comments and please vote. It is how we writers get to know how you, our readers feel about our work.
Enjoy:
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Layn Wyman came from a long line of woodsmen. Actually they called themselves foresters, but it was all the same in the long run. His kind always tended the woods and glens of wherever they decided to live. Layn was no different. It was in his blood.
Now, to be clear, not all the descendants of his line became woodsmen. Layn's brothers for instance, settled in the cities and forswore their responsibilities. Lane couldn't abide himself in the city. When he was trapped in one, he always felt ill. It got to the point it almost killed him, before he freed himself from the soul sucking woman who betrayed him and the city she had trapped him in.
When he was finally free of her, he ran as far as he could. He found a patch of beautiful old-growth forest and settled in.
The first time Layn entered the little cottage in the middle of the clearing, he found peace. Unknown to him at the time, he also found a bit of the old magic too.
After setting a nice fire in the hearth that first night, Layn lay his head down and listened to the quiet. For the first time in more years than he cared to remember, he was able to relax without wondering where his wandering wife was, or how she would torment him next. Just as he was dozing, he was startled awake as a dark shadow crossed the front windows. Jumping up, his war hardened instincts kicked it. He rushed to the window to find the threat.
What met him were the golden eyes of a small pack of wolves. The first wild ones he had ever seen. The pack leader held Layn's gaze, his head held low and tail straight. Layn saw the intelligence and smiled.
"Harm none of mine and I'll harm none of yours, master of the woods." Layn said in a friendly voice. "Have a merry hunt." Layn laughed at himself as the wolf and his pack flicked their tails at him and bounded out of sight. "My God, they're wonderful. This is where they belong, not in some damn zoo." Layn whispered, as he tried to follow their path out of his yard with his eyes.
Shaking his head in wonder, he headed back to his sleeping bag next to the fire. As soon as his head hit the pillow, he fell fast asleep. That night he dreamed of a world where the demons of his past could never haunt him again.
Over the following weeks, after the moving company dropped off his few meager possessions, Layn started setting the neglected homestead back to rights. He cleaned and organized the cottage, the barn, and the shed. He mucked out the stalls where he hoped to place a couple of horses. He thought they would be better to explore the mountains and valleys, than the noisy motorcycle his brother wanted him to buy.
Smelling the air, he could smell the rich aroma of fall coming and knew he needed to lay in supplies for the coming winter. As he cleaned the barn, he found a sturdy ax. He spent the better part of a day cleaning it and sharpening the blade. Ax in hand, he started clearing out all the deadfall around his little clearing. Stacking it and setting it aside to age for winters to come.
Layn would stop at odd moments, knowing he was being watched. Looking up, he would laugh when all he would find was the deer or other woodland animals, watching him from a safe distance.
"Be careful, there are wolves who hunt here." He told a golden doe as she daintily stepped over the broken garden fence and nibbled at the few remaining berries that were left on the tangled vines.
Layn never missed the bustle of the city. It soothed his soul to hear the birds sing him awake in the mornings. He didn't even miss the sound of other human voices, always pestering him when he wanted privacy. The neighboring critters eventually became used to the sound of his eclectic taste in music, as he would put on the stereo. He pointed the speakers out the front windows, whistling along as he worked the days away.
As he cleared the woods around his cottage, he would often see signs of the pack that greeted him. He would smile and bury what was left when he came across a larger kill. He knew it was the way of things.
He often wondered what type of animal made a sound that almost sounded like giggling little girls. He heard it on many occasions while he worked and looked to see what was around. He figured the next time he had to go into town for supplies; he would buy a book on the local birds and animals of the area.
After a month, even the realtor who had helped Layn acquire the property didn't recognize the place, as she pulled in to give Layn the deed to his land.
"Well you've been busy." The stately woman said, as she watched Layn's six foot frame come in from the woods. She sighed as she watched him put down the ax and toss on the long sleeve shirt over the damp undershirt he wore to keep the evening chill off.
"My grandfather always said, 'it doesn't get done by looking at it'." He brushed his light brown hair out of his eyes. "Besides, it helps pass the time. I knew this place needed some work when I bought it." Layn smiled back. "I told you I would have come to your office the next time I came into town." He motioned her toward the cottage.
The lady stepped real close, straightening her spine, as she unconsciously preened for the ruggedly handsome Layn. "I wanted to see what you made of the place." She wanted to run her hands over the rippling muscles she saw under his shirt. Her thoughts of seduction were interrupted when both of them heard a sharp twang and a loud angry hiss coming from the woods.
"Something's wrong. Go in the cottage and wait for me." Layn ordered as his battle trained reactions pushed him.
Before the lady could turn, Layn had grabbed his ax and disappeared into the woods. His clothes blending in so well, she couldn't keep track of him. "It's a bit rustic for me, but he can man handle me any time he wants too." She sighed under her breath, shivering at the thought. She was about to step up onto the porch, when another loud hiss startled her, sending her back to her expensive car.
"God, I hate the wilds. He can come to me. Once I get him a bit more civilized, I'll see where we can take this." She muttered, as she started her car and drove off, her head filled with visions of undulating under him on her silk lined bed. She had convinced herself that she had found her newest distraction.
Moving through the woods, Layn listened to the unusual silence. He finally heard the scrapping of something fighting for life. Following the sound, he found a large buck rabbit, caught in a snare. Cussing, he ran up and tried to loosen the snare, but realized it was already too late. The damage was already done.
"I'm sorry my friend." Layn said as he brought his ax down, ending the struggle as peaceably as he could. "If you're going to hunt, then hunt!" He swore. "I can't abide snares and traps." He cursed the bloody wire.
Layn tossed the dead animal into the brush. "Well my friend, if you haven't been eaten by the morrow, I'll tend to it. Right now I need to find if there are other traps on my land." As soon as he dislodged the trap, the sounds of the forest started again, even if they did sound a bit melancholy and angry.
