Free Fire Bringer by David Clement-Davies Page B

direction.
    It got darker as he padded along, for the canopy was getting heavier now and the dying sunlight could no longer penetrate the tangle of leaves that festooned the boughs. Rannoch blinked in the gathering gloom but he was too caught up in his quest to notice that the ground under him was beginning to change as the trail veered away to the left. His eyes were locked on the tree trunks above as he was drawn on by the sound of the owl, hooting loudly to welcome in the evening.
    Rannoch’s heart jumped as he spotted a shape on a branch above. It was a young tawny owl perched far out on the end of a branch, hallooing to himself as his huge, imperial eyes guarded his secret bower.’Hoo Hoo, what’s this?’ said the owl to himself as he spied Rannoch below. But even if the owl had been able to speak Rannoch’s language, the tawny was hungry and in no mood to talk, so instead he opened his wings and lifted himself off his branch. He swooped down right over Rannoch’s head and circled him three times before disappearing into the trees beyond.
    ‘Hello there,’ shouted Rannoch delightedly as he ducked and span round. ‘Come back.’
    But the owl was gone. Rannoch shrugged. Although they’d probably never believe him, at least he’d be able to tell the others he had seen a real owl. And in the middle of the forest too. Rannoch suddenly realized that it must be close to Larn. He should have been home long ago. He turned to retrace his steps but when he looked down, the track had vanished. Instead he was surrounded by trees, tall and dark and all looking very much the same.
    Rannoch was filled with the desire to run, run as fast as his legs could carry him, back to Bracken and the home herd. He felt fear bubbling up inside his stomach and his tail quivered as he peered around him.
    ‘I recognize that branch,’ said Rannoch out loud, and he started as his voice echoed round the trees. He looked around him and then, convincing himself that he did indeed recognize a tree, he set off in the wrong direction.
    As Rannoch walked the trees seemed to get thicker. He was scratched by thorns and very soon he wanted to give up. But he kept going. At one point he came to a tiny clearing in the canopy above and his spirits fell even further as he looked up to see that the blue was turning inky and the stars were pricking through the sky. Later on he started and bolted when he stumbled on a grass snake uncurling its smooth body in the brown undergrowth.
    Eventually Rannoch came to a second and larger clearing and here he paused to collect himself and beat down the fear that kept threatening to overwhelm him. The little calf sat down in the soft leaves and looked around him. In the sky above, the moon had come up and its ghostly light cast long, quivering shadows through the trees. Rannoch lowered his head dejectedly, laid his muzzle on the ground and closed his eyes. But as he did so he scented the earth and he was up again, wide awake, alert and quivering. Rannoch sniffed the earth again and then he was sure. The thick, cloying animal scent lay freshly on the ground, a mixture of deer and cat. Rannoch had scented a fox.
    The fawn had never actually seen fox but he and Bracken had been coming back to the home valley one day, after a short excursion away from the herd, when his mother had picked up a scent at the bottom of the meadow. It was an old spore and faint but Bracken had made sure that Rannoch remembered it. Now, here in the wood, the odour was ten times more powerful. Rannoch looked around and he could see immediately that the leaves had been disturbed where the animal, only a little while before, had been scuffling for food. The fawn’s eyes cast fearfully around him.
    He was trying to spy any movement in the trees, but he could see nothing beyond the pool of moonlight that encircled him. Yet, in his mind’s eye, he could already see the face of some terrible beast, snarling in the darkness, its teeth and red eyes