Chapter Text
Interlude Chapter 40.5: Bbokbbok
She’d had a good time playing in the bright antlers. The were huge and shiny! Stretching forever with golden boughs that felt like an enchanted forest.
The kind of forest she SHOULD have gone to.
If the nasty red people hadn’t turned her into shadow and vines instead.
But anyways! She’d met a Goddess. THE Goddess. That was worth dying for, she thought. Or at least a nice consolation prize.
A job well done from the universe even, since she’d found those awful nasty red people at last.
She’d even found the very right nasty red person. The one who’d pushed her off a cliff. She’d remembered that clearly, just as soon as she saw him.
She allowed her wooden face to slowly pull itself into a wide, wicked grin.
He’d never do it to anyone again. She’d made sure of that.
She swirled herself into a ballet of shadows in her glee. And then the Goddess had arrived, and She seemed to be curious about her hunt. She had seemed pleased, too, because She’d carried her away in her fancy golden antlers.
And then, THEN!
The Goddess had found her friends! She remembered them, too, once she saw them. They were good friends, and she was so glad they were okay.
Or she’d have to hunt more red people, and honestly she was a little tired after it all.
The shadows were whispering again, and it was hard to ignore them now. She was safe and warm, her friends had wrapped her up in a cozy coat and carried her to a big city in a metal box. Talking to her the entire time, introducing her to even more new friends.
Everyone was crying, though. And tired.
She was also tired. Maybe it was time for a nap?
And then some very nice grown ups had given her a real blanket and cocoa and a bed.
Now she was wrapped in that blanket again and her friend was holding her out to…
Oh! Nice hunter man in the wrong red! She chirped a hello and cuddled into his chest.
He was a good human too. Even if his smile was very sad when he patted her head.
They’d gotten in a car and she’d fallen asleep again after a while. Nice hunter had gently shaken her awake, still wrapped in her blanket.
Where was she now? It wasn’t the woods where she’d died. Or the woods where she’d hunted down the bad red humans who hurt her. It wasn’t the big city either. In fact, it almost felt… familiar…
The car door closed softly behind them. Another door opened quietly ahead. She peered up from the blanket, luminous black eyes taking in her surroundings. A quiet street, with stone houses and stone fences protecting small front gardens. This one had white flowers. Lilies. And pots with herbs on the steps.
Perilla and lemongrass. She knew that.
She knew this place.
The green door that matched the roof. The soft straw broom tucked in the corner. The red protective amulet hanging from the eaves.
A woman stood frozen on the steps, dark eyes wide and filled with tears. Another little girl stood behind her, hands grasping skirts shyly.
“Amma?” the little girl asked.
Something in her broke and tore out of her thorny little mouth as she ripped herself from the blanket. Away from the arms of the nice hunter man. He let her go without a fight. Away from the car. From her friends behind her. Towards the herbs on the steps and the green door and the little girl behind the woman who meant more than anything else in the world right now.
Amma.
Momma.
MOM.
Strong arms wrapped around her like a shield, pushing away any thoughts she had left of the forest, of the bad red people, of even the Goddess. Tears washed away the whispers, dripping down the dry wooden mask she now wore for a face like rain in a desert.
This was Mom. This was home.
She was home.
More than forests. More than shadows and their whispers. More than even revenge. (Because she’d gotten that already.)
She’d forgotten, but now she remembered. Where she was supposed to go, before everything had gone red and ruined.
THIS was where she was supposed to be.
“Oh, Rinka,” the woman’s hoarse whisper was as beautiful as bells in a temple. Her arms stronger than any trees the forest could have given her. “My baby. My bbokbbok.”
She was home.