- Memories Buried Deep
- February 20th, 2010
While hunting through the treetops of Whisker Woods last night, I came upon something that both draws my interest but also instills a sense of fear into my being. A brief tale I will make this, but one from the beginning to tell it straight. Jumping from branch to branch, I was hunting for a wandering Wiggler.
A Wiggler, you see, is something of a distant mouse cousin. We are kindred to each other, but only by genetic ancestry. Perhaps the files located in the laboratories of Digby might provide more insight into the past of my kind, but such stories are for another day. Suffice it to be that a Wiggler had escaped its pens on the outskirts of the Woods and taken to a direct path into the trees. The trees are where Wiggler's feel the most safety, mind you. This is due to their distinct green and red-splotched patterns that provide them natural concealment amongst forestland.
The humans had not yet that the Wiggler had escaped its pen, and I wanted to find the small fellow before something unsavory befell him. I had been following its path of broken branches and many-legged footprints as it undulated throughout the foliage, when the scent of cheese reached me in the boughs above. I immediately knew that was where the Wiggler had gone, since it is well known Wiggler's cannot resist any morsel of cheese, no matter the kind. Following this scent, I leapt from tree to tree, concealed within the garments of lady night, when I came upon the trap's location.
I must have at one point raced ahead of the Wiggler, for it had not yet appeared in the small clearing below me. However, the site I saw was a strange one. There was a wooden base with a small target painted on it, upon which a piece of cheddar cheese rested. I scoffed at the obvious trap, but knew the Wiggler would not heed the danger of the cheese. However, I saw no obvious trapping mechanism. There were no springs, no blades, just the wooden base and the cheese. My observations were cut short as the Wiggler appeared. Its long-caterpillar-like body loping along, a cheese-lust glowing its eyes a faint yellow. It leapt from the clearing's treeline and unto the base with a fervor only cheese-fever could allow it. Upon picking up the cheese in its many-legged hands, the trap sprung. Giant arm-like pinnacles leapt up from the ground and a shimmering force field came into view. The Wiggler hardly noticed, until the cheese was gone and the fever vanished from its eyes.
It began placing its hands on the invisible field, giving out a small whimper as it realized it was stuck. I leapt down from the tree tops and carefully approached, in case there was more to the trap yet. The Wiggler saw me, and turning to me it gave a squeak, asking for help. After some consideration, I determined the source of the trap's power rested in its arms, from which the shield was generated, so I stuck a dagger into some wires and glowing lights on one of the arms. The force field immediately shimmered off as electricity arced across the blade giving me a small shock.
With a squeak, the Wiggler disappeared back into the foliage. I gave a small sigh, realizing that I was going to have to chase it yet more this night. Retrieving my dagger, the force field shimmered back into view. I was about to turn away and give chase yet again, when some writing on the base caught my attention:
What did these two words mean? I felt that I had seen the second one somewhere once before. I couldn't consider them then, for I had to give chase to the Wiggler to save it from further misfortune. But now I wonder, as I write this. Why do the words strike some memory buried deep? Something from far in my own past.