Another hole, along with several trees

And moss, too

….So, making my way towards the entrance, I stepped on the tree and stood still. Hearing no sounds which would lead me to believe the wolf hid behind the trees, I slowly began tip-toeing towards the entrance, peeking out on both sides to be sure that it was safe—and here, I slipped out into the great unknown beyond the treetops.

Beyond the treetops, the wall surrounding the grassy field, a dark forest covered the sky rendering the stars and moon invisible. It was dark, pitch dark, and the floor, curiously, was totally devoid of any sort of underbrush, pine needles, or leaves as a typical forest might be. Rather, several inches of moss uniformly covered the entire floor of the forest, making easy walking for my bare feet.

Since it was dark and rather difficult to see anything, I was worried the wolf might jump out at any second and snatch me and take me away to some gnarly, bone-filled lair. But no wolf appeared; indeed, no sounds could be heard whatsoever throughout the forest. A heavy silence sat over the whole place; not sleepy, not at all, but rather comforting, as if, with the moss underfoot and the canopy overhead, I had entered my home and just had yet to turn the lights on.

Walking along, I began to notice something: the moss seemed to be moving. It rippled away from me, slightly, my steps causing slight waves in the soft, green carpet. I decided to test if I could make some greater waves, so I jumped a little, and the moss did indeed ripple a little more; then I did a full jump, and the entire ground lifted up nearly an entire inch.

So of course, brilliant individual that I was, I decided to see how high I could get the waves to be. Climbing up a couple limbs of one of the trees in the forest, probably about ten or so feet, I hopped down onto the moss, creating a tremendous wave that reached higher than my knees, sending waves throughout the forest and causing me to stumble to the ground on my rear end.

A muffled shriek erupted from where I had fallen. Surprised, I scrambled up the tree. Below me, I saw nothing. But a voice, rather high-pitched, a little gritty, and quite unpleasant, spoke from the general vicinity of where I had landed.

“Who is that?" it said, “trying to upset my little plot of land here? What are you trying to do, you ruffian? Tearing me up? Making a mess of all the moss in the forest? Waking me up in the dead of the night while I’m sleeping, trying to crush and destroy all the things that reside in this here forest? Who are you, and what do you think you are doing?!”

A “har-umph” ended the monologue, and I sat on the branch, not quite sure what to do. It seemed that the moss itself had spoken, and I was quite confused.

“Well?” it said again, “do you have anything to say?”
Trying to get the words out of my mouth (for, to be honest, I had not spoken in quite a while now, and was a tad rusty) , I spit out, “Sir, the moss moved! It really did—and I jumped on it—and it talked—it spoke, and, you know, I’m not sure what to do here—it seems so odd. What is it—you—that is speaking?” I was flustered, I think, very flustered; I had not heard a voice speak since—well, I couldn’t remember since I could only remember the time that I had been in the grass field, during which I had not spoken to an single individual.

The area from which the voice had come from made a sound like it was thinking of what to say, then spoke again: “You, boy, or whoever you are, shouldn’t be bothering with things you do not understand. See all the waves you have made in the forest? Surely you have woken up all the moss, and perhaps even awakened the Scarred Beast.”

“The Scarred Beast—you mean—you mean the wolf with marks all over it which tried to come into my field—the grass field, if you know what I mean?”

“Don’t speak when I am saying something,” the moss replied, “you have no notion of what you are speaking of. But no more time for talking. Come down here, so you can be safe from the Scarred One.”

Below me, a little hole appeared in the ground; and suddenly the moss around it pulled outwards and scrunched up all around. Distantly, I heard shouts and the sound of a wolf howling. The voice bid me to hurry and jump in the hole, which seemed the best course of action considering the situation. Thus and so I promptly did, as long as I could get away from that evil wolf, into the darkness that somehow seemed even darker than the forest in which I currently resided. I landed on something that felt like smoothed out wood, crouching at the bottom to keep my knees safe from the fall. Then, looking up, I saw the hole above me scrunch shut with a definitive, yet somehow quiet, snap, and I was completely surrounded by darkness. A light turned on, and there, maybe two inches from my face, was perhaps the most strange thing I had ever seen.